


And Then It Was You

by Xoie



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xoie/pseuds/Xoie
Summary: "Marinette waited, her pulse, a steady beat like that of a metronome. She felt him lean in, his fingers tightening around her strap. And then, like the faint touch of a feather, his lips just barely met her skin on the back of her shoulder. They hovered in place, waiting, teasing."Set in the future, it seemed the only problem Marinette had to ever worry about was her anxiety and the stress of maintaining her successful career as a fashion designer - that is until a run in with a certain blonde left her stunned and quite frankly, a little confused. Slow, mysterious and cunning.**This fic is an AU in the sense that no events which took place after the first episode of season 3 occurred in the characters' past**
Comments: 86
Kudos: 76





	1. Hangovers Are nOt FuN

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this mess! This is my baby and I hope you like it.
> 
> -
> 
> I started this on amino but I'm posting chapters here! If you're new, welcome! I hope you like what you read (do note that this is almost a year old) and if you're from amino, hello, love! Thank you for checking out my a03 page<33

_She was entangled in a blanket of silk cocooning around her form. Her eyes were curtained from the light dusting her face._

_The scent of lavender and musk mingled together to create an aroma of absolute tranquility. It flitted within the air and tickled her nostrils with the intake of her every breath._

_Her lungs expanded, opening their arms to welcome its presence, to bathe in its purity, its nostalgia. With every intake, she felt herself falling blissfully into the depths of a realm of her own._

_She was well aware of her surroundings, though. She always was._

_Especially when near /him/._

_Pulling her arm out from beneath the sheets, she gathered the fabric and snuggled into the bundle, trying hard to fall back into the haven that was her dreams._

_It was as she was tipping over that fine line of consciousness when a palm of warmth delicately settled just above her hip. She blinked behind closed lids before her lips split by a crack as she smiled into her pillow._

_It was as if her nerves came to life, darting through skin and flesh to relay the news of their presence. That they were there and well awake. Her smile only widened as she felt the mattress cave beneath her and heard the rustling of sheets as he shifted close._

_Ever._

_/So/._

_Slowly._

_And then, his hand was moving. The pads of his fingers skimmed over her side, quietly relishing in the kindles they were igniting as they made their way up soft, smooth skin._

_He could feel her shiver beneath his touch and like a bolt of lightning, it shook his nerves as they thundered about a storm of want, of desire, within the confines of his chest._

_Trekking their way up her bare arms, he delicately slipped his fingers into the crook of her neck, his index finger going under and hooking around the thin strap of her silky cami._

_Marinette waited, her pulse, a steady beat like that of a metronome. She felt him lean in, his fingers tightening around her strap. And then, like the faint touch of a feather, his lips just barely met her skin on the back of her shoulder. They hovered in place, waiting, teasing._

_Softly huffing, the raven head felt blood rush to her cheeks, her gut clenching towards his painfully long hesitance. Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, she shivered from her core upon the brush of hot air caressing her skin before his lips delved down, planting a soft, tender kiss to the back of her shoulder._

_Breathing in her scent, he smiled into her neck, slowly working her shoulder with the plush of his palm._

_“I know you’re awake.”_

_Oh god, his /voice/. She loved how gruff and textured it was in the morning. It was the pinnacle of male carnality._

_And when he nuzzled his head into the side of her neck, enveloping her figure, she could do nothing but-_

“MARINETTE, WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

Gasping for air, the raven head shot up from her slumber, her eyes going wide and sweat clinging to her tank top and back. 

Her panic was soon replaced with confusion as her hazy vision focused in on her sheets. Her head spun and saying she felt terrible would be the greatest understatement of the year. 

Scratch that- century.

White noise amplified within her ears before they popped, tuning out the chaos and letting everything in.

Where was she? What was going on? Why was her head pounding? And holy moly, why the heck was she sweating in an ungodly manner?

Her answer came in the form of a pillow going thirty miles an hour to the head.

“Ouch! Gah-” 

Yelping out in pain, her hand reached for her crown. Rubbing against her stubbornly knitted locks, the girl turned to see the culprit was none other than her best friend.

“What the heck, Alya?” she grumbled, her fingers now picking at her midnight tendrils. 

Holding up two cotton totes, the brunette in accusation cocked a brow above the rim of her glasses. 

“I’m sorry for interrupting your makeout session with your pillow, but if you don’t get your sleepy little arse out of bed, we’re gonna be late, girl.”

Trying to rub the sleep from her eyes, her thoughts muddled together, making it hard for her to understand just what the heck Alya was going on about.

_Makeout session? Pillow?_

A soft breath escaped her lips as a cool shiver slithered down her spine, causing her to straighten up in her heap of sheets.

Heat settled beneath her cheeks as she recalled what she had been dreaming about before being startled awake.

Again. She dreamt of him again. 

“Hellooooo? Earth to Mari! Girl, are you ok?” 

Flinching out of her thoughts, she looked up to see Alya now sitting on the bedside, her hand resting atop hers. 

“Yeah, I just...feel peachy..” she breathed, unable to shake this fine jitter crawling up her arms.

Sighing, the brunette placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, beaming a grin that held the faintest hint of mischief.

“That’s exactly why we can’t be late for our appointment,” grabbing onto her arm, Alya pulled the raven head to her feet, “the spa is literally half an hour from here. We’re already major late and traffic is gonna kill.”

Picking the pink, lacy, summer dress hanging neatly on the provided coat rack, the brunette continued to push her best friend towards the bathroom in their suite. 

Practically shoving her through the door, Alya dusted her hands before placing them on her hips, “now remember, the girls are going to meet us there which is why it is very important that we leave in the next twenty minutes!” 

“I still don’t understand why we have to go to that spa place- there’s one literally down the street, Alya-” 

“Ah, ah, ah! We’re lucky enough Chloé snagged us all a spot. It’s a very exclusive spa-meaning no sketchiness like the one down the street.” 

Handing the girl a towel, the ombre leaned forward, red curls bouncing as she placed a hand on the golden knob. 

“Now, I know you might have a slight hangover...you were wilding pretty hard last night.”

Bluebell eyes shot up to meet golden in a slight panic.

“Oh my gosh, seriously?” she facepalmed.

Marinette could practically feel Tikki shaking her head in disappointment...wherever she was nesting.

“It’s alright, Rose was pretty far gone than you, actually,” Alya chuckled, taking great amusement in her best friend’s reaction. 

“Wow,” she blinked, “this sure is going to be one hell of a wedding.” 

“Mmmhmm,” Alya gave Marinette one last look before, “you know, rumor has it that Ivan even invited Adrien,” wiggling her brows, she quickly stepped back and shut the door, her smirk being the most prominent feature on her face. 

All Marinette could do was stare at the white imprints carved into the wood, the weight of the towel and dress in her arms now completely numb.

Alya’s words left a tingle within the crevices of her heart yet her pulse played a different melody, one of cold anxiety and crippling apprehension. 

She hadn’t seen him since...when? Laycee? 

A chill took the air as she recalled the scathing events that had taken place just before graduation during their final year.

After the discovery of his mother’s body just barely alive within the hidden basement below the manor, Adrien had cut all contact with everyone he knew. Nobody took it to heart as they couldn’t even begin to imagine what the model must be going through.

Later that week, it was informed that both father and son had left for London, leaving the mansion abandoned to this day. 

Curling her toes, her heart ached at what had happened next- it always did. 

Hawkmoth had grown suspiciously quiet. Too quiet.

It was as if the entire city was holding their breath, waiting for the villain to strike them unexpectedly. 

She had tried to get into contact with Chat Noir, but that darn cat wouldn’t receive any of her calls or even come out of hiding. It was so unlike him.

Days turned into weeks... and weeks slowly turned into months.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she swore she could feel the lining of her eyes burning with heat. Marinette wasn’t stupid, no. She had matured into a brilliant young woman and the duty of being paris’ superheroine only strengthened that even more.

It took some time and digging on the Emillie Agreste case to realize the truth behind the coincidental disappearance of her partner and enemy at once.

When the truth finally struck, Marinette didn’t know what to sob harder over; losing her partner or not realizing the hell he most likely had to face.

Seeing as there was no need for purifying akumas- at least not in Paris, she decided to remove Ladybug from the eyes of the public as well. 

And so, with the uncertainty of being targeted finally perished from all parisians, everyone went about their lives, content that they didn't have to live in shrouded fear. 

Yeah, the media hunted for the “lost” heroes but that too eventually died down. Soon, the idea of Ladybug and Chatnoir was nothing more than a thing of the past. A myth even, to the new generation.

Yet even so, some still questioned, “what happened?”

What had happened was that Marinette failed. 

A faint knock to the door broke her trance.

“Hey, Mari? You awake in there or did you fall asleep?” 

Shaking her head, the bluebell glanced in the mirror only to see tear tracks lining her cheeks. 

“I’m fine, Alya, just..er shaving!” 

Thanking her vocals for keeping an even tone, she began to strip from her night attire, her mind still clinging to the faint trepidation echoing from her thoughts. 

Standing beneath the running water, she let her stresses and worries ebb away from the warmth of the shower. 

If Alya was right, and Adrien really was coming to Ivan and Mylène’s wedding, then she might have an opportunity to ask him about the whereabouts of his father. Afterall, the prime duty of collecting and returning the butterfly miraculous had yet to be completed.

Still, the idea of him in that tight spandex and wild hair knocked the breath out of her. She definitely needed to brace for impact. Adrien didn’t know she knew his secret and it definitely didn’t help that her dreams were torturing her with guilt in the form of pleasure.

Humming out a soft giggle, she shook her head. Silk sheets and musky scents. Like that would ever happen.

There was no way he would fall for her.

Ladybug or not, it had been nearly seven years since she had last seen him. She was no genius but she knew that seven years was more than enough for the heart to forget and move on. 

The pressure of water beating down on her back soothed her previous ache. 

Yet, even boldly claiming to such a statement...why was it that a small fraction of her heart still clung to him? If seven years was truly enough to forget, why hadn’t her heart wiped what little remnant was left of Adrien Agreste, former partner, away?

Quickly putting out the thought, the girl simply focused on getting out of the shower and getting dressed before Alya were to storm through the door and yank her out by force.

Besides, she had more important things to focus on. 

The return of Adrien meant the return of plagg...unless.

Her heart staggered, the feeling of her earrings heavy on her lobes. 

Unless the blonde had decided to walk away from him too, like the way he had walked away on everything and everyone else. A part of her always wondered if deep down, he willingly wanted to as well. 

It was thoughts like these that really broke her. Angered her. Tormented her. 

She knew his miraculous was still active, she just didn’t know if it was in use or the worst of her fears- had fallen into the hands of Gabriel. 

* * *

“Alya...maybe we’re just early?” 

The young journalist stopped her rapid pacing momentarily, turning to look at her friend. 

“Mari, we left late.” 

Sighing, Marinette took a step towards the girl, concern shimmering in her bluebell eyes. 

“Maybe...Rose is super wasted?” she eventually let out.

At this, Alya laughed. There was just something so humorously jarring about picturing sweet, innocent Rose with her blonde bob all over the place that it made it difficult to not simply belch out a couple of whole hearted laughs.

With the sun beating down on their backs, the girls eventually decided to head on in. Wherever the rest of the bridesmaids were, the two figured they’d eventually turn up. 

Pulling the leather strap of their totes up their shoulders, the two walked around to the front of the large, luxurious building. 

Two white corinthian pillars stood tall on either side of the automated, glass doors. 

Walking in, Marinette felt her heart clench as sudden nervousness settled within her every nerve. There was a beautiful, stone cut fountain right smack dab in the middle of the grand foyer. 

The high arch of the ceiling and stainless steel panels etched into the walls only added to the elegance the place held. 

Making their way towards the main desk, the raven head took notice of the opulent chandelier hanging just above their heads, its thousands of diamond crystals reflecting twinkling rainbows and golden beams. 

She couldn’t help but fixiate her gaze on one of the hanging diamonds, spinning on her toes as she walked beneath it, a smile stretching on her face from ear to ear.

Alya took note of her best friend's wonderment and chuckled. It was as if Marinette had turned into her eighteen year old self again, delighted and filled with light. 

Her smile wavered as she recalled how stressed the bluenette had been recently, with all her success and of course, the pressure of designing the bride’s wedding dress. 

She was glad they were here. A spa was exactly what her little blueberry needed. 

Ironic it was, that Alya’s thoughts were far from accurate for unbeknownst to them, fate was busy tinkering away and doing what it does best-

Reeling in scattered strings together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :3
> 
> Loads of love,
> 
> Xoie💕


	2. The Discrete Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I said I'd update but I'm lazy and unfamiliar with A03 soooooo yeahhhhh
> 
> Anyways, enjoy the second chapter :D
> 
> Let's recap:
> 
> She was glad they were here. A spa was exactly what her little blueberry needed. 
> 
> Ironic it was, that Alya’s thoughts were far from accurate for unbeknownst to them, fate was busy tinkering away and doing what it does best-
> 
> Reeling in scattered strings together.

It had been hours and yet the rest of the girls were nowhere to be seen.

-okay, maybe she was exaggerating a bit too much, it had only been five minutes- but regardless, Alya’s patience was quickly thinning faster than she liked. She was walking on thin ice and the cold waters of anxiety were holding true to their strong current just below.

Letting out a much exasperated sigh, she looked up to find Marinette still staring at the painting hanging on display in the foyer. Brows creasing, she pushed herself off the wall, arms still crossed across her chest.

She...had been standing there, gazing for quite some time now.

* * *

The bluenette could do nothing but stare at those cold, glaucous eyes. Every stroke of blue looked as dull as ever, the glasses framing his face with nothing but hostility. At first glance, something struck within her and her feet welded themselves to the marble floor.

It was as if his stark gaze were peering deep into her soul, taunting her.

She had wondered how Chloé was able to book everyone for the spa so last minute. The blonde had told everyone that she had connections with one of the investors, not bothering to mention their name.

In theory, Marinette should have known.

The portrait of Gabriel Agreste- her former enemy- stared back at her.

She inwardly chuckled in disgust. The artist had done a perfect job at capturing the constant storm within his eyes.

“Mari?” 

The soft spoken voice broke her trance, making her flinch as she turned to see Alya looking back at her with worry etched into the corners of her eyes.

“Are you ok? You’re shaking.”

“I am?” the raven head rasped, looking down to see that her hands were indeed shaking.

She frowned, making fists.

Taking in Marinette's reaction, Alya turned to glance at the portrait, raising a brow behind the frames of her glasses, then back at the girl. Something was definitely off about her best friend. More than usual.

“Hey,” gently encircling her arm around the bluebell’s rigid shoulders, she lead her away from the paining and towards the double doors leading into the actual spa, “let’s get you cooled off.”

“Alya, we should wait for the others-”

“It’s fine, they’ll live.”

Despite her silent protests, Marinette decided to drop it and follow her friend through the doors and down the long, spacious hallway.

She quietly noted the amount of paintings that hung on either side of the hall. This only caused the return of her previous nervousness.

Taking a right upon the fork, Alya finally let go of her hold, motioning the girl towards an opening leading to a tall, stainless steel door. At first, it looked like an elevator except much taller and without the traditional concave entrance.

A large vase flowered with golden bamboo stood to the left of the door and Marinette wondered if the gold was real.

Her attention returned to Alya as she handed her a green pass, pointing to the large paneled-keypad to the door’s immediate right.

“Slide the card, if it acts up, just punch in your card number.”

Turning the card over, the numbers 2850 stared back at her.

Marinette threw her a look mainly because she had never seen something so ridiculous in her life. It was a door to a change and shower room for crying out loud, not a gateway to a royal bank.

She was even willing to bet her entire condo wasn’t near the price of this door-lock, security system- whatever you wanted to call it.

It was official, this place was too expensive for her kind. She felt like a peasant.

If she were honest, she didn’t want to take another shower. However, seeing the way Alya’s eyes tightened behind her glasses, she figured she might as well go drown her worries away. 

After all, ever since Wayzz’s confirmation of the butterfly miraculous being active to date, showers were the only haven in which Marinette’s crippling anxiety would throttle down.

She may not have the duties of battling akumas but her task of getting back the stolen miraculous was still at hand.

And well, that portrait of Gabriel didn’t really do anything to subdue the heavy weight of the pending task on her brittle shoulders.

If anything, it made her sick.

Smiling up at Alya, she gave the ombre a quick hug before swiping the card and gaining access to the spacious change room.

Walking in, she noted how elegant yet simple the area was. The hooks all neatly lined the walls along with heated, wooden benches.

Dropping her belongings on the far side of the room, she reached for her robe within her bag and hung it neatly on the hook provided.

Stripping from her pink dress, she made sure to drape it over her bag so the material wouldn’t stretch out.

Spinning on her heels, the bluenette collected her towel and made her way over to the actual showering area. Finally picking one of the countless cabins, she slid the curtains, set her undergarments aside and turned the cool, metal handle.

Was she surprised she could set the pressure and temperature of the shower head through a digital panel built into the tiled wall? No.

Sighing against the steam the heat created, Marinette found her thoughts lingering back to her former partner.

She wondered if Adrien knew about his father’s secret.

Because if he did, that would change everything, wouldn’t it?

* * *

_Click._

Marinette blinked when her ears caught the faint sound, her hair still dripping water beads meandering down her near bare form, serpentine.

She had just stepped out of the shower and paused in her tracks. She waited, listening.

Suddenly, the place was consumed by nothing but darkness. Immediately, she felt her gut twist into stubborn knots.

_“Holy shi-”_

Her hands groped the smooth, ashlar wall, desperately trying to safely make her way over to her belongings.

Her panic started kicking in when her knuckles collided with the empty hooks. Feeling her way across the wall, her pulse quickened with every cold metal curve her fingers knocked into.

_This is so not happening._

Her internal screaming did absolutely nothing to subdue her bubbling anxiety. And then, when she nearly slipped on her own two feet, a low rumble sounded through the speakers.

Before she could comprehend, a hum began to reverberate in the grand room.

Marinette blinked once, twice, and like the sudden change in tide, the lights came back to life.

A shiver ran down her spine as she let out an inaudible sigh. So much for being luxurious. Turning, she spotted her robe hanging safely on the other side of the change room.

Padding her way over, she noticed that she was now shivering despite the mild humidity still clinging to the air.

The high ceiling gave her the creeps. Why did this place have to be so big?

She wondered if the minor power out hit the rest of the building or was only felt in the area her and Alya were in.

Speaking of, she wondered if the rest of the girls had turned up yet. A sheepish blush tinted her cheeks and shoulders. Judging from her pruning fingers, she had definitely lost track of time.

Not her fault, she blamed it entirely on the high tech showering controls and never ending hot water.

So lost in her thoughts, it was only when she took her robe from the hook that she realized one, tiny little detail.

Staring at the empty bench, she felt her stomach drop.

Um...where was her bag?

“Oh no,” she whispered.

Throwing on her burgundy robe, Her eyes scanned the perimeter.

_“No, no , no, no.”_

It was a panicked mantra, the word simply running off her tongue, fueling her perturbation.

Searching all the benches for a glimpse of pastel pink, she went running around the change room, her hands frantically feeling the top of all the shelves.

She was the only one here. Who could have possibly-her thoughts stilled.

Unless...

Unless Alya had walked in sometime and taken it. It would also explain why Tikki hadn’t escaped to warn her.

That was the only logical explanation.

And yet, even with the thought, this inexplicable, ominous feeling settled down within her stomach.

If Alya /had/ taken her bag...why hadn’t she called out to her?

There was only one way to find out.

The hairs on the her nape stood on end as a current bolted down her spine. It wasn’t a good idea in the slightest but it was the only option she had-

-Leave the steamy shower room and find her best friend who (hopefully) had her bag.

Thankful for her undies beneath the robe, Marinette restively took the ends of its cotton sides, pulling them taut across the forefront of her body, making sure to cover as much skin as she could.

Padding her way over to the tall, stainless steel door, she carefully opened the damn thing and cautiously took a few steps outside. The hallway was cold beneath her bare feet, the balls of her foot sticking to the marble floor.

Thankful for the quiet in the otherwise bustling atmosphere, the raven head was relieved to find that the corridor was delightfully idle. Perfect.

Less embarrassment for her.

Now, it was only a matter of finding Alya. Where the heck could her best friend be?

She had no idea.

Letting out a low, irritated groan, she pushed back her wet tendrils and stilled. Closing her eyes, Marinette willed what little energy she had remaining within the folds of her muscles and focused on channeling her inner Ladybug.

The air, now bitterly nippy simply due to the drastic contrast from the mist within the shower room, began to bite at her blanching skin. Willing her nerves to fight against the shivers rolling down her bare legs, Marinette wished her robe went below her slightly quivering knees.

Leave it to Alya in talking her into getting a silky, beltless robe which screamed the complete opposite of conservatism and modesty.

Taking in a shaky breath, the raven head tried making her way over to the large opening before her, but the darn air conditioning and current lack of layers made it hard for her to move.

Deciding to scurry back into the toasty haven which lay open right behind her, she figured she might as well dwell within the warmth of the change room a while longer before venturing out into the hallway.

Of course, that was her stellar plan...that is until she heard the faint sound of metal sliding shut. Slowly pivoting on her heel, her shoulders went rigid as wide eyes stared at the door to the changeroom firmly sealed shut.

Jumping from her rooted spot, her hand landed on the cold metal as the other desperately clutched onto the bundle of fabric within her grasp. Groping her way over to the keypad panel, her skittish fingers hit the green button labeled, “unlock” in a frenzy.

Her gut clenched and stomach plummeted all the same when a cool, feminine voice rose from the speakers, sealing her fate in a robotic tone:

_“Access denied, please enter card number-or swipe your card.”_

The strangled mewl which slipped from her lips was enough to awaken her anxiety.

“No. no, no, _no, no, no, no, NONONO,_ **_NO!”_**

The way it rolled off her tongue, climbing higher in both pitch and speed was a clear signal any bystander would be able to see- Marinette was officially losing her shit.

And yet, even with the android woman built into the overly-expensive and overly-unnecessary security system repeating that damned message, there still lingered some shard of hope in the young woman as she recklessly pushed at buttons she couldn’t even see anymore over her bubbling turmoil.

Marinette wanted to cry. She really did.

Though, in her head she sought to believe that if she kept at the panel, it would somehow, miraculously open. It had to.

_“-Access denied.”_

“I’ll deny YOUR ACCESS, YOU-nngaaahhhh!”

Full-on punching at the poor keypad now, something within her snapped as her mouth sealed shut mid-scream. She was is a bloody luxury spa for crying out loud!

“Luxury my ass,” she mumbled bitterly, stepping away from the-surprisingly-functioning panel.

Sighing, the raven head finally succumbed to the fact that there was no going back. With a slow shuffle, she finally turned on her heel and decided to find Alya and retrieve her bag. 

Of course, amidst her pouting, she didn’t bother to raise her head as she turned the corner.

So, it should have been no surprise when her body collided with a solid chest, sending her staggering back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh.
> 
> Would you look at that. I cut it short. Huh.
> 
> Man, it really must suck not knowing what happens next- y'all can't even blame me because if you know me, you KNOW I love a good cliff hanger👀👌🏻
> 
> All I'll say is this:
> 
> Don't get your hopes up because not everything is as it seems ;)
> 
> Loads of love,
> 
> Xoie💕


	3. Just By Chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay- so I felt BAD for just leaving you hanging there- ESPECIALLY after not updating for uh...weeks? 
> 
> So consider this as an apology hehe 
> 
> Let's recap:
> 
> Sighing, the raven head finally succumbed to the fact that there was no going back. With a slow shuffle, she finally turned on her heel and decided to find Alya and retrieve her bag. 
> 
> Of course, amidst her pouting, she didn’t bother to raise her head as she turned the corner. 
> 
> So, it should have been no surprise when her body collided with a solid chest, sending her staggering back. 

Darting her arm out, her hand thankfully landed on the wall, quickly balancing her before she could fall flat on her arse. And well, with the lack of clothing, that would have been a really embarrassing sight. She had spoken too soon.

“Whoa, watch where you’re-” 

The words died on her tongue as her eyes peered up with the intent to stare down the insolent stranger who hadn’t even bothered to help catch her as she had tumbled backwards.

Sunkissed skin, lean muscles, a sharp jaw and a mop of tousled yet stylishly kempt blonde hair stood before her. Marinette couldn’t care less...until her burning sapphires took in the set of hypnotizing, emerald eyes that stared back at her with a cool, incurious gaze. 

She could go anywhere in the word yet she could never forget those eyes. 

Needless to say, the sudden presence of Adrien freaking Agreste threw her completely off. Had the steam from the shower finally gotten to her head? Was this another trick her mind was playing on her? 

She hadn’t realized that she had forgotten to snap her jaw shut as she continued to gape incredulously, seeing the faintest hint of pink blossom across the bridge of his nose before his eyes quickly averted to the side. 

She also hadn’t realized her hands were no longer holding onto her robe, leaving it hanging loosely by her sides. 

Needless to say, her very seductive and oh-so very revealing (thanks a LOT, Alya), two piece, sable swimsuit was out in the open, basking in the radiant fluorescent lights. 

And ADRIEN, I REPEAT, ADRIEN had caught sight of her twins, proudly on display.

Kill her now. 

Illusion or not, her hands flew to cover her body as best she could, yanking her robe across her form as a borderline shriek leaped from her throat with a squeak to its ungodly pitch.

“OHmygod,I’mSoSORRY!” the words slurred together, darting from her mouth in a frenzy.

“It’s okay, just-uh, be careful next time.” 

It spoke. 

She must be dreaming. Pinching herself hard on the arm, she bit down the hiss which threatened to escape. The realization of her full fledged consciousness was appalling to say the least.

Blinking, she opened and shut her mouth a few times before settling on, “I-I didn’t hear you coming around the corner, I-” 

“-It’s fine. Just look before you turn,” he smoothly cut her off, a prominent humdrum painting his tone. 

Flashing her a quick, tight-lipped smile, he stepped aside and walked around her, barely catching the soft, “okay,” the woman blurt as he passed. 

Rooted to the spot, Marinette stared at the empty space he once filled before her gaze slowly wandered down to the tiles beneath her feet. The crease in her brows deepened in thought. That was...weird.

Really weird. 

Shaking her head, she trekked down the hall in hopes of finding her best friend. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop playing her short interaction with Adrien over and over in her mind. 

By the time she made it to the end of the long hall, she threw in the towel. She knew she shouldn’t, but there was no way she /couldn’t/ mull over the conversation they just had. Something about the way Adrien had talked seemed...off. 

It was as if he hadn’t recognized her. Like, at ALL. 

Something stirred within her upon the thought. She honestly didn’t know how to take that in. 

In his defence, he hadn’t seen her in six years. 

After all, she liked to think that she had matured quite decently- all with her eloquent curves and prominent bosom. The last he had seen her was when they were teens-turning adults. 

And although her facial features hadn’t drastically changed, they had developed from an adolescent to a more sophisticated form. All except her button nose that was- it was still quite petite and ‘adorable’ as her papa would put it.

Her hair had been damp and down. It was longer than shoulder length but not too long that it looked remarkably different. Maybe it was the lack of pigtails? That /could/ be it but she wasn’t convinced. 

As she turned the corner- making sure to actually LOOK this time- her eyes caught sight of her bag resting peacefully on one of the white armchairs pushed against the wall.

A flood of relief washed over her form as she scurried to snag it from its spot. Taking a quick look inside to assess what had been stolen, she was surprised to find that everything was exactly where she had left it. 

“There you are!” 

Startled upon the sudden sound of her best friend, Marinette jerked her head up, pivoting on her feet. 

“Alya, don’t scare me like that,” she breathed, opening her arms to accept the vice-like hug the ombre strangled her with. 

Pulling back, the journalist frowned, narrowing her golden eyes behind glasses. “where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you, girl!” 

Perplexed, the bluenette simply blinked in response. 

Upon seeing her friend’s confusion, Alya decided to elaborate, “I saw your bag in the hallway when I came to check up on you but you were nowhere in sight. Where did you go?” 

At first, Marinette was baffled as to how her bag had even made it out into the hallway when she clearly remembered leaving it hanging on the hooks. If Alya hadn’t come into the change room, then who…

A flash of red caught her attention from the corner of her eyes. She subtly focused her gaze in the direction only to spot a set of large, indigo irises looking back at her, peeking through the leaves of the plant standing just over Alya’s shoulder.

A moment later, two antennae stuck out from behind a leaf and wiggled left to right.

Tikki. 

Of all the things her kwami had done, this was by far the most out of character. Whatever her reasons may be, Marinette would worry about that later. Right now, she needed to think of a bs excuse for her whereabouts. 

That wouldn’t be too hard considering she had made said bs excuses all throughout her early and late teens- courtesy of being a part-time superheroine of course.

“This place is so big, I got lost,” the lie rolled off her tongue with ease, “and then there was this weird power out-” not a lie “-it freaked me out so I set my bag down. When the lights finally came back on, I forgot to pick it up.” Laughing nervously, she threw the brunette a sheepish smile. 

Alya eyed her for a moment, her brows knitting together as a pout formed on her lips. After what felt like YEARS, the woman backed down, simply shrugging and pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. 

Marinette internally sighed, deflating as her best friend let her off easy. However, her next set of words only caused her heart to pulse against her throat as her short lived tension returned. 

“Well, while you were busy getting lost, you will NOT believe who I spotted near the main foyer!” Alya sang, a burning kind of excitement twinkling in her eyes.

Oh god.

“R-really? Who?” Marinette squeaked, cringing at her voice and trying hard to control this growing apprehension building up within the confines of her chest. She didn’t know why her palms were getting clammy.

Alya smirked, her pupils narrowing in on bluebell irises.

“Luka.” 

The name danced off her tongue with a cheeky tune.

Marinette sputtered as she tried to hash out something coherent amidst her delirium. Taking in her reaction, Alya threw her head back, belting out a good, wholehearted laugh. 

“LUKA? What is HE doing /here/???” 

Gaining composure, the ombre patted the girl on her shoulder, “Isn’t that the million euro question?” 

Marinette eyed Alya for a moment, not sure if her friend knew the answer to said million euro question or not. From the way her golden eyes glistened with a knowing glint, she figured it was the former of the two. 

Quirking a brow, she threw the ombre a dry look. “Don’t tell me it’s because of you-know-who.”

Alya simply smirked, rubbing that smug bravado in her face. 

“That’s what the gossip is, at least. Can you imagine the look on Chloé’s face when she realizes he’s here?” 

This caught Marinette’s attention. 

Snapping her head up, she frowned, “she doesn’t know?” 

“Not that I know of. The only person I told is Alix mainly because she texted saying she’s running late.” 

Sighing, Marinette messaged her temples. So much was going on.

“Honestly, Chloé should just accept the fact she has a thing for him,” the journalist blurt after a moment.

“I mean, I get why she isn’t. Do you remember the way she used to treat him back in Lycée?” 

Alya threw her a look, “girl, I don’t think /anyone/ can forget THAT.” 

Quiet settled between the two. 

Surprisingly, it was Marinette who broke the silence, “maybe Luka heard that Juleka is coming? I mean, she did say they hadn’t seen each other for a while now with his music career taking off and all.”

The girls hummed simultaneously, both grasping their chins.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see-” Alya shrugged after a brief moment of pondering. 

Marinette swallowed upon seeing those eyes narrow in on her. Uh oh. 

“-In the meantime, why don’t you tell me the /real/ reason why you looked so shaken up when I found you,” the ombre finished, her tone gentle yet demanding and frank. 

Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited for an answer, eyeing the bluenette impatiently.

Uh-oh indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay yeah, this chapter is SUPER short but bear with me- 
> 
> I will update everyday until I run out of chapters to post here (hopefully I won't forget).
> 
> Anyways, let me know what you think of the first encounter 🌚


	4. Two Birds, No Stones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourth chapter 030
> 
> Disclaimer: it's shOrt

Marinette felt pinned beneath Alya's stark gaze as she drew her lips into a thin line. There was no backing out of this. So much for her elusion.

“Okay,” she sighed quietly, “let’s just say you won’t believe who I spotted either.”

Fiddling with the strap of her bag, she refused to meet eyes with the brunette. Alya took note of her friend’s obvious avoidance and curiosity took her thoughts in a stride. Who could possibly have her poor blueberry this agitated?

“I...ran-literally-ran intooo…” she dragged the word until she forced herself to peer up at Alya.

With her head still ducked between her hunched over shoulders, she willed her face from going beet red as she finished quietly with his name, “... Adrien.” 

The ombre blinked at her at first before exploding on her with a big, “WHAT.”

Marinette cringed at the shriek tearing through her eardrums. Yep, she was going to go deaf. Definitely.

Suddenly two tanned hands were clasping onto her pale, pale shoulders, joggling her vigorously.

“He’s here too?? And HOW.”

“A-aaa-ly-ya-aaa, st-o-oooo-o-p,” the bluenette cried out, coiling her fingers around her best friend’s wrists in a bleak attempt to stop the girl from shaking her to death.

Alya seemed to note her rather..er, harsh reaction but she couldn’t help it! The girl had ran into ADRIEN. Adrien, of all people! How the hell was that even possible?

Still, she realized that if she didn’t stop soon, Marinette would be too dizzy to give her all the juicy deets.

Flashing her a meek yet sheepish grin, she recoiled herself from the girl.

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” the raven head pointed, fixing her robe as she shot the brunette a pouty glare.

“Fine, fine, sorry. Now, tell me /everything/. What happened? What did he say?”

“That’s the thing,” slowly crossing her arms, Marinette shifted her weight from one foot to the other, “he didn’t -say anything, that is.”

This made Alya frown as she struck Marinette with a puzzled look.

“What? He sees you after /all/ these years and he doesn’t say a word?”

“No, Alya, that’s not it. I...I don’t think he recognized me...like, at all,” Marinette pieced together slowly, pulling her brows down.

The young journalist simply blinked behind her glasses, the question slipping from her mouth before she could stop herself.

“What?”

Lifting a shoulder, Marinette offered a half-shrug.

Alya shut her eyes, waving her hand dismissively as her face screwed up in confusion.

“Wait, wait. He didn’t recognize you? Not even a little?”

“Beats me.”

Giving the bluebell a slow once-over, the ombre ran her vision up and down the raven head’s form, her one hand now landing on her cocked hip as the other gripped her chin in evaluation.

“You know...it kind of makes sense.”

Marinette blinked, straightening up, “it does?”

“Yeah, you’re hot.”

It was so blunt that it was uncalled for.

“Alya!” Marinette sputtered bashfully, her eyes widening as her face turned a deep scarlet.

“What? It’s true-not to say that you weren’t good looking the last time he saw you.” Shrugging, she elaborated, “I mean, think about it, girl. The Marinette back then was cute, adorable, petite-”

“-I get it,” the bluenette grumbled.

Ignoring her, the ombre continued, “but now,” motioning to the young woman’s obvious toned physique-even visible in a robe, “it’s like puberty slammed you twice. This Marinette is not only cute-she’s smokin’ hot.”

“Ooookay,” Marinette drawled, her face surging with heat as she raised her hands to tell the journalist to knock-it-off.

Of course, her unease only spiked Alya’s delight. She was going to milk this cow for as long as she could, dammit. A mischievous smirk took her features as she blatantly continued, completely ignoring Marinette’s bleak protest.

“Your boobs even grew- can you believe that? I honestly thought they wouldn’t, no offence-”

“ALYA.”

The strangled plea that leaped from the raven head’s throat sent the ombre snickering. Sapphire eyes flashed as porcelain skin darkened in hue. It seemed her blueberry had turned into a cherry.

“Alright, alright! I’ll stop,” Alya retreated in between chortles as the girl lightly swatted her arm.

“I’m going to go change,” Marinette muttered, turning her nose up and spinning away from her ridiculous practically-sister.

“Before you go though, I have to ask, when you ‘ran’ into him, the poor thing didn't see you in your birthday suit now, did he?”

Whipping her head back, she glared at the ombre as her face practically glowed bright red.

“No. I’m not nude under this, thank you very much!”

As much as she wanted to be mad at Alya, she simply couldn’t. Especially not when she winked at her like that with that classic, teasing smirk.

“Just double checking!” the brunette sang.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette sighed as she turned and stalked her way towards the bathrooms.

This day was just dragging on, wasn’t it?

First the lights, then her bag. It was barely noon and Marinette was already exhausted. Not to mention her kwami's sudden act of mischief- that completely threw her off.

She’d deal with Tikki later. As for Adrien…

Pushing open the door to the bathrooms, she closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe. The sudden appearance of her former partner was also startling...so much so that her mind couldn't process it coherently.

She decided she’d worry about him later too.

In fact...if she were honest, she didn’t want to run into him for the remainder of her stay.

* * *

The streetlight overhead turned red and Marinette tried her best to stifle the groan rumbling within her throat.

Her fingers tightened around the steering as she bumped her forehead to its top with broiling annoyance. She was already running late, she didn’t need any more stalling lights.

The silence in her car was loud, save for the soft rumbling of her engine. And well, after getting a fretful call from Tracy, her supervisor, about a drastic shortage in cotton jersey and silk at her boutique, Marinette had to leave the hotel the minute her and Alya had returned from the spa.

This day just kept getting better and better, didn’t it?

Honking at the car before her, she swore under her breath when the vehicle remained still as the light flashed green.

“Come on! Move it!”

At this point, she was just frustrated. So many things were piling up on her plate that she felt as if she would drown the minute she looked away for too long.

Speeding past the car as it (thankfully) noticed the green light and accelerated, Marinette leaned forward on her seat, her tumultuous thoughts scattering and arguing with each other.

A week.

Marinette had a week until the wedding and the fact that Mylene’s dress had yet to be completed did not sit well in her stomach at all. The best part? She needed silk to complete the articulate design of flowing ruffles over the gown.

She was determined to make the dress as perfect as possible. It would be one of a kind- a Marinette Dupain-Cheng original; none other to be made like it.

The budding designer wanted the bride to feel like the whole goddess she was while walking down the aisle, and Marinette would be damned if she missed even the tiniest of a detail.

Needless to say, the pressure was relentless and up to her throat.

As she passed countless buildings, many of them standing tall and reaching for the sky, she was reminded of the meeting she had to attend with the CEO of ‘A La Paris’ the following day. Frick, she had completely forgotten about that, hadn’t she?

This time, she did let out the wretched groan nesting within her throat as she slammed on her brakes upon the signal turning amber up ahead.

Sighing as her small, white sedan came to a halt, Marinette glanced over at the passenger seat and cringed when she saw that her bag had toppled over. Thankfully, its contents hadn’t spilled onto the cushioned seat.

Tikki had been sleeping inside and judging from her reckless, jerky stops due to her speeding, the poor kwami must have been awoken and tossed all over the place.

A crease puckered her brows momentarily before she noticed the signal turning green.

Speaking of Tikki, the kwami had yet to explain her mysterious departure with her bag back at the spa. To think the scene had taken place mere hours ago was jarring.

This day really was dragging on.

“Hey, Tikki? You awake?” she managed gently upon the next (curse her luck) red light.

There was no response and Marinette worried for a moment that her kwami had maybe wandered off again before she had left the hotel in a hurry. Thankfully, a pair of twinkling, indigo eyes appeared within the shadows of her bag.

Okay, so she was here. Good.

“Yes, Marinette?”

The raven head waited for the creature to come out of hiding but it seemed like Tikki wanted to stay within the tote. Shrugging, she turned to face the road once more, her eyes fixing themselves on the street light.

“You never told me why you disappeared earlier at the spa,” glancing briefly at the pair of eyes intently gazing at her, she pulled her mouth down into a slight frown. “And why’d you take my bag? That’s so unlike you.”

Marinette awaited a wise, thought out explanation, but it never came. Instead, silence filled her car once more.

A sense of unease settled within the barrels of her stomach the longer her kawmi remained silent.

Tikki must have felt the tension rolling off the poor girl in waves for she spoke up a moment later, quiet belated, “we can talk about it when you get home, Marinette.”

Her voice was small, yet gentle.

This only amped the raven head’s steadily growing anxiousness. If Tikki wanted to wait until she got home to explain the reasoning behind her sudden disappearance, then it must be something serious.

And with that, the cogs in her mind were on a run.

It was quite compelling. What was so guarded about her reasoning that her kwami didn’t want to get into it right now?

As the light flashed green, worry crept its way onto her skin, sending an unpleasant shiver frolicking down her back.

Exactly what had Tikki seen that made her leave Marinette’s side?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'll see you tomorrow 🌚


	5. A Quiet Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! 
> 
> Another short chapter -3-

“Is that everything?” Marinette sighed, collecting the documents from her office table.

“I believe so, miss Dupain,” the redhead replied with a small smile.

Looking up from the stack of sheets in her hand, the raven head made a slight, disapproving frown. “I told you Tracy, Marinette is fine.”

The small, slender woman blinked, her rich, cocoa eyes, catching her mistake.

“Oh, my apologies, Marinette. I’m so used to monsieur Blanc calling you that, I forget you don’t mind being called by your first name,” she finished with a tight smile.

“It’s alright.”

Following the bluenette around her desk, the caramel-skinned woman offered her a file folder to stow away all the papers that seemed to be on the brink of flying from the designer’s grasp.

“Speaking of, can I confirm your meeting with him tomorrow at nine?”

Stopping abruptly before the door, the designer rummaged through the pile in her hand, shuffling all the documents in a neat order. Slowly pivoting, she offered the redhead an apologetic smile.

“Yes- he did receive the outline of my designs, right?”

If she were honest, Marinette was nervous about sending her ideas to Faucher Blanc, afraid he may back down from the offer he had presented her with after the large amount of attention her small boutique had received all thanks to her ladybug inspired spring dress.

She was aiming for something nostalgic when designing it. And well, when Alya coaxed her into posting a pic of her wearing said dress (in which she looked incredibly stunning as her best friend had claimed), it instantly was a hit, going viral in a matter of _days_.

Never had she experienced her phone blowing up with comments upon comments and endless likes on her boutique’s instagram page. She went from a few hundred to 3.5K followers in a span of three days.

It was overwhelming to say the least- especially when Tracy had stepped foot in her boutique by the end of that week, informing Marinette about the proposal A La Paris had for her.

Blanc had seen the dress himself, the picture of Marinette wearing a beautiful, scarlet high low with a mesh, halter neckline jeweled with black sequins to give a dazzling effect of polka dots. The plain fabric for the gown seemed light and flowed freely from the scrunched waist down to the knees, its tail just reaching the mid-calves.

It was the perfect blend of casual and elegant, capturing the eye of all parisians- including the CEO of A La Paris. And here she was, a month later and the prize investment of the company. 

Marinette was hesitant about the collaboration between her newly established brand with the successful and steadily popularizing one owned by the well-known, and now, the new talk-of-town, Faucher Blanc.

Though his brand wasn’t nearly as prestigious as the reformed Agreste brand, it was slowly making its way up there.

“He has,” Tracy’s words cut through her musing thoughts, jolting her attention back to the present. “And he is really interested in what you will bring forth to the table tomorrow.” 

This was it. All her hard work coming down to tomorrow’s meeting. Her sketches were rough simply because that’s all Faucher had wanted to see, but still, the lump of tension building within her throat ceased to go down.

Tracy seemed to have caught her nervousness for she offered the designer an encouraging smile. Resting her tablet against her dark, formal, sheath dress, she placed a gentle hand on Marinette’s shoulder as if to emphasize her words.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m sure your designs will be wonderful.”

It was soft spoken yet filled with enough conviction to make Marinette mirror the redhead’s grin.

She really loved Tracy. The woman was elegant and strikingly beautiful with her dyed, thick locks always straightened and gelled to perfection. She could easily pass for a model had her height be a little taller.

Giving another endearing smile, the tanned woman turned and made her leave.

Marinette waited until she heard the faint chime of the bell hung on the door to her boutique before relinquishing a heavy sigh.

She surveyed her small office, her eyes running across all the discarded papers littered around her desk and floor before closing its door with a soft click.

Resting her head against the glass window build into the wooden frame, she went over everything she had to do before sunday made its way to her doorstep.

Restock on materials, go shopping for flower crystals and other white jewels, finish the bride’s dress, look over her sketches for the umpteenth time to make sure everything was exactly the way she liked it...ugh.

So much to do, so little time.

As the raven head stepped outside the store, locking it up again, her thoughts wandered to a more pressing matter she had yet to address.

Making her way over to her car, she slipped inside and sat there for a moment, contemplating everything that had occured.

Now that she thought about it, it _was_ kind of weird for her to dream about her former partner and childhood crush only for him to appear out of thin air the same day. 

Looking over at her bag, her gut clenched as she was reminded of another thing she had yet to take care of.

* * *

“So, are you going to tell me?”

Raising her petite, bulbous head, Tikki gave Marinette a small smile as her chosen set down her mug.

The smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed green tea filled the apartment. It was the only thing keeping Marinette calm as she patiently waited for her kwami to finish nibbling on her cookie.

Swallowing, Tikki peered up at the young woman, a sense of hesitance glossing her eyes. This only amped Marinette’s anxiousness and the kwami seemed to notice right away.

With a sigh, she set down her chocolate chip cookie and folded her nib-ended hands in her lap.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, Marinette.”

The young woman sighed before fixing her gaze on her kwami, “I know, Tikki, but if you were going to wander off, you should have at least given me a heads up.”

“I was going to, but…” floating up to hover before the raven head’s face, she folded her small, rounded hands behind her back. “I didn’t have time to.”

At this, Marinette frowned and leaned in, now curious.

Her kwami’s eyes gleamed with something inexplicable...maybe wonderment? Reminiscence? She couldn’t tell.

“I sensed a familiar energy, Marinette. It was faint but it was there. I wanted to see what it was but before I could follow it any further, it became too weak for me to track down.”

_Energy?_

Marinette’s eyes widened as she clicked Tikki's words to her strange encounter with a certain blonde earlier this afternoon. Suddenly, said blonde’s sudden appearance made sense.

The energy her kwami had felt...could it have possibly been Plagg?

Her heart swelled as its pulse steadily grew in her throat. Could this mean that...Adrien hadn’t walked away? That he was still Chatnoir?

“Oh my gosh,” she breathed, widening eyes staring at nothing in particular as they casted their vacant gaze downward. Her palm found her forehead as Marinette reeled back, sinking into her couch.

Tikki observed her chosen with a lump in her throat. She was hoping Marinette didn’t catch the tiny detail hidden between her set of words. Judging from the woman’s oblivious reaction to her carefully structured sentenced, the kwami was relieved but still antsy.

“Tikki, I saw him,” Marinette blurt after a moment, her conflicted eyes still staring at the smooth top of her dark brown coffee table.

After another stretch of silence, her gaze finally slogged up to meet her kwami’s. Dark brows furrowed down as a storm of emotions brewed within her sapphire eyes.

“Before I found you, I ran into Adrien. You-you don’t think…”

Tikki’s features remained passive, her face a blank expression. Observing.

After a moment, she offered a kind smile, “I’m not sure Marinette, I told you, the energy became too weak for me to pinpoint...”

She watched with grim as the glow in her chosen’s eyes faded.

“...but, if you saw Adrien wearing his ring, then yes, his miraculous should still be active.”

Marinette blinked, her memory scattering back to early afternoon when she had collided into him while turning the corner. As she had tumbled backward, her eyes _had_ caught a glint of something...something silver before she had steadied herself.

It was a long shot but if he had raised his arms to brace from the impact then...that glint must have been his ring. 

The air stilled as Marinette’s entire world came to a steady halt. The ringing within her ears grew tenfold as the thudding of her pulse rammed against her chest with every heavy beat.

Adrien was back in town. Chatnoir was back in town.

Her breath hitched as another darker thought came to light. Adrien may be back...but that didn’t mean that Chatnoir would surface out of the blue.

_No._

She needed to see him. Talk to him. Ask him if he knew anything about the butterfly miraculous and its whereabouts.

She finally, _finally_ had a chance. An open window to finish what they had started and left hanging.

Bluebell eyes shifted to now stare out her large, glass wall overlooking the city below.

It was true, Chatnoir wouldn’t just reappear on a whim...but if Ladybug happened to come out into the city light, then maybe…

Shooting up from her spot, the raven head got to her feet.

Tikki silently watched as her chosen padded her way across the spacious living area and turned the corner to the short, narrow hallway.

As the petite deity settled back down on the table top, she couldn’t stop the crease above her eyes from darkening. The problem-or relief- was that Marinette still thought Tikki had taken her bag when she had left the young woman's side to follow that ever familiar energy.

Although the kwami was gracious for this oblivious assumption, it produced nothing but worry within her stomach.

Because Tikki hadn’t taken the bag...she had merely flown out from it. And the energy she had felt didn’t belong to Plagg either. If it had, she would have been on his tail in a matter of seconds.

The energy was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Which brought up the question: what was this mysterious aura she had felt and was it responsible for taking Marinette’s bag?

She didn’t know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading💕💕
> 
> I promise, the chapters will get longer ;)


	6. Coincidental

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here is what I'm going to do. 
> 
> I will update this series kind of like the way webtoons update. You will find a new chapter on: Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays. 
> 
> I will make a short announcement like this when I change this uploading schedule :D
> 
> Enjoy!

The sound of heels clicking against marble echoed in the lobby. The few strands Marinette had pulled from her carefully styled knot bun blew as a rush of air welcomed her into the building.

She was running late.

With her mustard envelope tightly clutched to her chest by her one arm, she turned her wrist to chance a glance at the silver watch she had decided to wear in hopes of looking the part. She was attending a business meeting after all.

9:01 am

Shit.

Well, considering she had barely caught a wink of sleep last night, it was a miracle she was even setting foot in the building before eleven. Thanks to Tikki’s revelation, Marinette’s thoughts had cooked up a storm featuring none other than her former partner.

She had been tossing and turning within her sheets all night long, her irritated groans chasing away what little sleep had trekked towards her.

When her eyes had flew open around half past eight, MUCH after her alarm had stopped its ungodly screeching, the raven head had practically leapt from her bed. 

If there was ever a time Marinette was happy to set out her clothes for the following morning, it was today. A nice, dark grey pencil skirt reaching just above her knees, nude stockings, a light, pastel pink button-down blouse complete with rolled up sleeves and matte-black heels.

Yes, she had done a very snazzy job if she were honest.

The only thing she needed to worry about right now was racing against the clock. Picking up the pace, she strode through the large double doors sliding open as she approached, her eyes flying to her wrist once more to check the time.

Cringing, her feet shuffled quicker in a haste.

Maybe it was fate or her lack of sleep and heavy fatigue, but the heel of her pumps slid against the dark tile and Marinette lost her balance.

She quickly tumbled forward, her form flailing as she did. Her eyes went wide as her body braced for impact. However, before her knees could touch down on the floor, her shoulders collided with something hard, causing her envelope to drop and scatter its contents across the dark tiles.

A pair of hands were steadying her but Marinette's attention was set on the papers littering the ground beneath her feet.

Mumbling a swift apology and thanks, she was scrambling down on her knees and gathering all her notes and sketches in a hurry.

This was so not happening- and just when she thought her morning couldn’t get any worse.

Her fingers brushed the last of her sketches, neatly painted acrylics reaching for the papers. Suddenly, her jumpsuit design was being held out to her, accompanied by an oh-so-familiar, cool, honey voice.

“This is a really good design concept.”

No, it couldn’t be.

Her eyes flew up to meet a garden of greenery twinkling with fascination. Marinette swallowed, mainly because she couldn’t believe the chaos that was her life.

White shirt, close-fitted, grey vest and coat, gelled, blonde hair and a deep, navy blue tie.

Squatting before her was none other than supermodel heartthrob, Adrien fucking Agreste.

And Marinette wanted to _die_.

Her mind went spiraling, an infinite amount of questions racing through her head. The most prominent being, ‘ _what the hell is he doing here?_ ’

And how the heck did she run into him- _LITERALLY_ \- again?

Stifling a groan, she quickly took the sketch from his grasp, the action causing a sharp sound to take the air.

“Thanks, but these are confidential.”

_Confidential?? SERIOUSLY Marinette??_

Biting down her tongue, she willed herself to offer a bleak smile. Shooting up to her feet, she swiftly pivoted on her pumps before quickly stalking away.

Heat settled on her nape and Marinette didn't dare glance back. That was so embarrassing, just the thought of recalling it set the tips of her ears ablaze.

It was incredulous to think she'd run into him so soon. Yeah, she wanted to see him- but not like THAT. When she had hoped she'd be able to stumble upon him again, she meant in costume, not as Adrien for damn's sake.

Especially not as Adrien- not after yesterday.

A shiver rolled down her spine and the raven head willed herself to gather composure. She was here for business.

Upon reaching the main desk, she smiled at the receptionist currently typing away on her keyboard. It took the woman a moment to register the bluenette’s presence but nevertheless, she turned to meet her eyes in a passive manner.

“Yes?”

Marinette’s mouth went dry. Why was she nervous all of a sudden?

“U-um I’m here for a nine o’clock meeting with monsieur Blanc? I should be listed as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

The dark woman arched a perfectly sketched brow, giving the raven head a quick once over before turning her attention to her screen. Her eyes seemed unfazed as she clicked away with her mouse, her full, red lips not so much as twitching.

Now that Marinette took in her features, she noted how gorgeous the receptionist was. Her dark complexion was smooth and dewy. High cheekbones were contoured to perfection.

The bright shade of her lips stood out against her skin and complimented her pointed chin. Her ebon hair was sleek and styled into a high ponytail with a diagonal part.

She looked like a model ready for the runway.

Steely eyes flicked up to catch her staring and Marinette quickly glanced away in embarrassment. The receptionist cleared her throat and the raven head was forced to meet her slightly deprecating gaze.

“You’re late,” she slid a card across the smooth and elevated, walnut countertop. Her long, neon-pink nails tapped on the card, motioning for the bluenette to collect it. “Take the elevator to the forty-seventh floor. His office is the last one down the hall to your right.”

Finishing curtly, her brown eyes returned their attention back to her large computer screen, her fingers busying themselves across her keyboard once more. Marinette hesitantly took the card from the counter, afraid the receptionist would smite her.

As she turned on her heel and began making her way towards the elevator, the raven head couldn’t believe the cold attitude she’d been served. Shaking her head, she figured she was probably reading too much into the receptionist's words.

As she waited for the numbers flashing in red above the steel doors to read GROUND, Marinette felt an inkling tingle on her nape- as if she were being carefully watched.

Her shoulders went rigid as her breath hitched. Before she could discreetly turn her head to check if anyone was standing by, the doors to the lift slid open with a soft ding. Marinette stared at the empty elevator shaft awaiting her presence before numbly setting a foot inside.

When she turned to press the silver button with the number 47 engraved into its center, her eyes carefully lifted to the open doors. The jittering of her nerves came to a halt.

There was nobody there.

******

Green eyes carefully watched the young woman dressed in a light pink blouse step into the elevator. Adrien pushed his shoulder off the glass door and turned to make his leave.

What was he thinking? It surely couldn't be true.

Just as he made it down to the underground parking, his eyes focused idly on his black Bentley. The grip on his keys tightened as the air around him stilled.

It was quiet.

He was pretty sure he was the only one in this section of the parking lot.

Unfortunately, his current solitude didn't help with the raging storm of musing postulations clouding his head.

Well, almost-solitude.

Suddenly, there was a small head poking out of the pocket tucked on the inside of his unbuttoned suit, accompanied by a dry remark.

“I thought you said we were leaving. It’s hot in here and I’m getting hungry.”

Adrien relinquished a long, heavy sigh from his core, his shoulders drooping right along with his growing deflated state. Running a hand over his face, he gently massaged the ridge of his brows, stifling a groan.

“Plagg, I swear if you come out of your pocket one more time-HEY!”

It seemed as if Plagg had finally grown tired of the blonde’s constant scolding, for the kwami simply zipped out of the coat itself and hovered out in the open.

“Are you crazy?!" Adrien grit through his teeth, whispering hotly. "Get back here, someone could see you!”

Darting out of his chosen’s grasp, the kwami flew higher up and away from the hands trying to snag his tail.

“Oh would you relax already? You’re being such a drama queen,” Plagg sneered, as if Adrien was being ridiculous.

It seemed to do the trick for the blonde froze, his arms now stiffly dropping to his sides. Although he hated to admit it, his kwami did have a point. He was being on edge...more than usual.

Clenching his jaw, he willed himself to remain calm as he was reminded of the reason to his restlessness. He couldn’t exactly help it, not after stumbling upon an email he knew he definitely wasn't supposed to see.

His expression must have been set taut for his kwami let out an annoyed groan.

"You're making that stupid face again, kid."

This seemed to jolt the blonde out of his thoughts for his eyes were snapping upwards to set upon Plagg. Before he could remind the creature that he was most definitely not a kid, Plagg frowned, resting his nib-ended hands on his hips

"Now that I've gotten your attention," turning his nose up, the kwami crossed his arms and hovered in place, “are we gonna leave or are you gonna continue stalking your old baker friend?"

Adrien blinked before frowning. Hard.

"I'm not stalking anyone."

Dipping down, Plagg flew close to his chosen, a dry look plastering his small face.

"That's great to hear. Now can we go?"

It was physically taxing for Adrien to keep from rolling his eyes and sighing at his kwami's exhausting behavior.

He wasn’t particularly fond of the constant nagging he had to put up with on a daily basis. Over the years, he had learned to tune it out.

So, he didn’t understand why his kwami’s words were so easily getting under his skin.

* * *

Plagg silently observed Adrien's disheveled state- though not a hair was out of place, he knew better.

Maybe it was because he was growing irritated, or maybe he simply couldn’t see his chosen so abandoned and isolated within his thoughts any longer.

“You know kid, the faster we leave, the faster you can be alone again and I can be with my sweet, sweet camembert.”

The thing was, Plagg knew Adrien.

And although his words were far from what the blonde needed to hear, he knew that they were enough to push him. Because complete isolation and grief over the past few years had hardened Adrien’s ability to sway from what needed to be done; turning him into a full-fledged business man.

He knew his chosen had recognized Marinette, so had Plagg.

Hell, the black cat had seen her the day before AND had taken her bag for the heck of it. Though, Adrien happening to run into her was an added bonus. He had teased the model about it all night.

However, seeing him now and the way his back stiffened and his hands clenched, he didn’t understand why the blonde was fighting the urge to turn back and say something. He had lost touch with all his friends along with the interest of reconnecting.

It didn't make sense. What made her stand out?

Plagg knew his chosen was oblivious to what he knew about the raven head. So that brought up the question- why did Adrien, someone who now cared about nothing but business, was contemplating on starting (heaven forbid) a conversation with an old classmate?

Although he was one to keep to himself, the saying was, after all, curiosity killed the cat.

As he saw something within the blonde’s eyes resolve, Plagg drew a blank face, keeping his amusement sealed within.

“Actually, I think it wouldn’t kill you to stay away from your cheese for a bit longer.”

Bingo.

Making a show of rolling his eyes, the kwami hid the smirk tempting his face as he lazily flew back to his designated pocket.

As he felt Adrien spin on his heels, Plagg fought the urge to peek out of the coat.

Satisfaction was bringing him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Thursday!


	7. The Whirlwind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes commissioned art work done by Razz Bunny! Please go check out their Instagram @Razz_Bunny_
> 
> I love their art style so much <3

“NO, What I don’t understand is why they’re moving in. Yes. I know for a FACT Susan isn’t relocating so- They what? They BOUGHT the modeling agency??”

Marinette swallowed, her hold on the mustard envelope tightening as she opened the door to Blanc’s office by a crack. It seemed the CEO was currently in the middle of a heated argument.

She cringed at her bad timing.

_Would it be rude if I walk in?_

She was already tardy, she didn’t want to delay this meeting anymore than it already had been.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and pushed the sleek, frosted glass door. The clicks of her heels echoed in the short, narrow hall leading to an opening. There, a few steps descended into the large, sunken office.

The colossal windows stretching across the back wall were blindingly bright, letting in a mass amount of natural light. She allowed her eyes to take in the office and quickly noted how everything- including furniture, followed a white and steel blue theme.

The room was spacious and the view it had to offer nearly took her breath away.

“I don’t CARE. What I want to know is why I wasn’t informed about this!”

Her eyes snapped to the voice.

A tall, well-built, tanned man dressed in a black, three piece suit had the receiver of a telephone wedged between his shoulder and ear. His hands were flipping through a catalogue, his back towards the young woman.

Marinette swallowed before taking a hesitant step forward, her pumps sending a loud click into the air. Shifting her hold on the envelope, she was able to make enough noise to capture the attention of the CEO.

The raven head watched as he turned, finally catching her presence. Setting down the catalogue, he took hold of the receiver, leaning his weight against his large, white office table.

“Let me call you back- until then keep tabs on the deal.”

With that, he hung up, lifting his gaze to greet the raven head with an apologetic smile.

“Ah, there you are! You must be miss Dupain,” walking around the desk, he clasped his hands together, “sorry about that, it seems business never takes a break.”

Marinette smiled, the gesture lighting up Blanc’s face. Something in his golden eyes twinkled as his legs sprung to life.

Covering what little distance stretched between them in a stride, he offered his hand, “it’s so great to finally meet you. I’m enthralled to see your sketches in further detail.”

Marinette easily shook his hand, thankful that hers hadn’t gone clammy from her sudden nervousness. “I’m honored to be here, monsieur Blanc.”

It was here where she noticed his hair. It was styled in a sharp crew cut and held quite a lot of volume. The top section was like a thick bush; dark brown and permed with tight curls, while the sides were faded and dyed a steel grey.

It really complimented his facial bone structure. Infact, he looked...fairly young.

Motioning to the set of white sofas, he began making his way over, signaling her to follow behind. “Please, take a seat!”

Marinette blinked. Wait...they weren’t having this meeting over at his desk? This was surprising.

Trailing behind the tall man, she suddenly felt a wave of nervousness wash over her. Though his attitude so far was warm and welcoming, she couldn’t help but feel as though his presence was a bit unnerving.

What if he didn’t like her designs? What if he thought her sketches weren’t good enough? What if he changed his mind and dropped her from the collab?

_“This is a really good design concept.”_

That honey lemon voice rung in her head, causing the air in her windpipe to catch. The words calmed her, ironically.

Shaking off her jitters, she reminded herself to keep from jumping to conclusions so soon.

Taking a seat near the square arm of the sofa, Marinette slowly became insouciant about Faucher...that is until he took a seat next to her.

His sturdy form leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. For a CEO, he sure seemed pretty informal and laid back. Definitely nothing like what Marinette expected him to be.

Dismissing the thought, the raven head carefully took her sketches out of the large envelope and set them across the table. The shiver which ran down her spine didn’t exactly help with her shaky hands.

She could _feel_ his heavy gaze on her.

“Nervous?”

Marinette cringed.

Sitting up straight, she tucked a wayward strand before turning to face him, “is it that obvious?”

She was amused to see him chuckle before he turned his attention to her papers. He really was nothing like what she had expected.

Marinette figured it was because she had only ever been in the presence of one other CEO a long, long time ago.

Gabriel Agreste was nothing like Faucher. In fact, judging by his casual demeanor, they both were polar opposites.

As he surveyed her sketches with thoughtful eyes, Marinette’s anxiousness steadily grew within the pit of her stomach. Hands clasped and resting in her lap, she glanced between him and her sketches while chafing her bottom lip.

The heavy silence draping them was sickening. After what seemed like endless minutes, Faucher finally reclined and tilted his head, his eyes still set on the sketches.

“These are incredible.”

Her lungs expanded in what felt like eons, finally able to catch air as her shoulders relaxed.

Suddenly, his arm was moving, reaching out to one of her designs. “However…”

Marinette paused, holding onto bated breath as his finger delicately tapped her jumpsuit design.

“...this one is by far the best,” he turned to face her, wonder twinkling in his eyes, “I have never seen anything like it.”

Before she could contain it, the knot in her gut unravelled to let out a ragged sigh. Relief mingled with ecstacy coursed through her body, bringing air to her lungs and elation to her heart.

He liked her designs. He really, really liked her designs!

“Thank you!” she breathed, her voice tapering near the end.

She felt her eyes uncontrollably swell with emotion and embarrassment flooded her as Faucher handed her the box of Kleenex near his end of the coffee table, accompanied by a gentle smile.

Taking a tissue with a sheepish grin, she gently dabbed at the corners of her eyes, careful to not let her mascara run.

Setting down the box, the CEO turned so that his torso now faced the woman as he clasped his hands.

“So, miss Dupain-”

“-Marinette is fine!”

She bit her tongue, unsure if her slip was rude. Judging by the kind smile Faucher offered, she was relieved she hadn’t come across as such.

“Alright then, Marinette, could you explain to me your thought process when designing this piece?”

Her eyes widened by a fraction as she skated her gaze to the jumpsuit. Out of all the designs, her heart had somehow gravitated to this one the most.

After gathering her thoughts, she finally spoke, “well...to be honest, I wanted to create something comfortable but stylish.”

Her hand slowly reached out and brushed the paper, the pads of her fingers lightly tracing her fine sketch lines. “Ideally, the first thing that came to mind was cotton,” frowning, she recoiled her hand, “but then I thought, why not silk?”

Turning to glance at the young man, Marinette was surprised to see his golden eyes already fixed on her with great intent. Breaking his gaze, she cleared her throat, a flood of warmth clouding beneath her cheeks.

She wasn’t big on attention- well, not as Marinette, at least.

“I was inspired by Giambattista Valli and what he did with tulle. In the end, I felt like a jumpsuit would be the perfect hybrid of haute and casual wear, all the while being comfortable for the wearer.”

A low hum vibrated from the depths of his chest as he saw her hands motion to the large bundle of tulle stitched across the low neckline in the sketch.

The fabric was bunched vertically to give a beautiful feeling of elegance and wrapped around the arms, just off the shoulders. The thin spaghetti straps were barely visible with the amount of fabric.

In short, the top of the jumpsuit was flowing with volume and was one of the prominent elements to attract his attention.

“Because of the amount of tulle used in the top half, I decided to keep the lower half of this piece pretty simple so it doesn’t overwhelm the design.”

Faucher paused, listening to her explication with a frown.

“But what about the ladybug?” he pointed.

Marinette blinked.

“Oh...yeah, I added that fairly last minute, out of habit.”

From the hem of the bell bottoms, there was a fine dotted line in gold running up the side of the right leg, only to loop around the front and lead to a single, small ladybug resting just below the knee.

Blanc raised a thick brow, assessing the design after taking in her elucidating words.

“You really have a thing for ladybugs, don’t you?”

Marinette’s lobes felt heavy, suddenly much too aware of the weight of her earrings. Brushing back a stray lock of midnight, she forced a tight smile.

It seemed Faucher had seen through the fabricated gesture for he chuckled and shook his head. Naturally, Marinette didn’t know how to take his reaction, so she sat rigid, her right leg crossed over the left and back ramrod straight.

“I have never met anyone like you, Miss Du- ah, Marinette,” he quickly corrected.

Scooting close, he fished a pen from his pocket while grabbing a notepad from a table she figured was on the other end of the couch. Quickly scribbling something down, he peeled the paper from the book and handed it out to her.

Marinette first looked at him and then the small note, unsure of where he was going with this. As her hand reached out to grab the slip, Faucher moved his hand forward, his fingers brushing hers as he offered the paper.

Frowning at the set of numbers, she looked up to find an amused grin taking his face.

“It’s my number. Personal- not work-” Marinette swallowed, her fingers closing around the small sheet of paper, “-I really mean it when I say that I have never seen anyone like you. Your designs are unique and you blend fashion in ways I would never imagine being done.”

She felt the hard cushion beneath her cave as his weight shifted close. Her pulse quickened, nerves ricocheting off the walls of her arteries. The heaviness of his gaze was overwhelming.

“With that said,” she watched as he slid his arm across the top of the couch, turning to now fully face her as he leaned in close, “if there’s anything you need, anything at all...call me.”

Suddenly recoiling, he sat up straight, creating a gulf of distance between them once more. “and I will do everything in my power to aid you as best I can.”

The sound of a throat clearing snapped both their attention, their heads turning to see Tracy standing at the bottom of the three steps descending into the office.

“Miss Boyle has requested to meet with you, monsieur Blanc.”

Marinette’s eyes bulged as her heart rammed into her ribcage. How long had Tracy been standing there?

“Tell her I just finished wrapping up with a meeting and I’ll be at the conference room in five.”

“Right away, sir.”

Turning to meet her bluebell gaze once more, the CEO flashed the young woman a dazzling smile. As he helped her gather the sketches, Marinette couldn’t shake this uncomfortable feeling lining the pit of her stomach.

Finally stuffing the last of the papers back into the envelope, she found it weird that the idea of leaving gave her a sense of relief. As if she were a caged bird finally taking flight.

Turning to make her way towards the stairs, she was surprised when Faucher offered to walk her there.

“Remember, call me if you ever need anything.”

And with that, the two finally parted with Marinette slipping out the door.

* * *

As she felt her stomach drop when the elevator began its descent, the raven head kept her gaze carefully focused on the points of her black pumps. The frown which creased her brows only deepened as her hold on the crumpled note tightened.

She didn’t understand why but Faucher gave her a weird vibe.

Maybe it was because he was acting really casual but…

Her mind flashed back to him leaning towards her and goosebumps sprung down her arms. Either she had been imagining things or Blanc needed a serious talk on personal space.

Her attention was snapped back to the present when the motion of the lift came to a stop and the steel doors slid open with a soft ding.

Stepping out with feeble footing, she kept her gaze downcasted as she made her way back to the lobby.

She could tell you the storm of thoughts she was trying to quelle in that moment, or the sound of her heels clicking against the tiles. She could recall everything that had happened in great detail because if there’s one thing anyone remembers, it’s the point in time where their lives shift.

“Marinette?”

And this was the exact moment that Marinette’s life took a turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, see you Sunday!❤


	8. Old Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for posting so late! I didn't realize how busy I would get today but here ya go!

Her feet came to a halt as the hairs on her nape stood on end.

“Marinette?”

Back going ramrod straight, her grip on the envelope tightened. She recognized that voice. And it nearly swept her off her own two feet because yesterday, she was so sure that that voice didn’t recognize her.

Holding her breath, she turned to find Adrien standing a few steps away. His hair was perfectly combed to the side, his one hand tucked into the pocket of his grey coat.

At first, she could only stare, not daring to believe that he was real. There was absolutely no way he was still here.

The longer he stood there, staring back, the more she was convinced that this was just another dream. Maybe she was still in bed, snoozing the morning away and had missed her meeting all together.

Yes, that was an excellent point, one which she really wanted to believe.

But then, he _moved_.

Walking up to close the short distance between them, he quirked the side of his lips into an easy grin.

“I thought that was you earlier, what are you doing here?”

What was she doing here? What was HE doing here, that was the real question.

Smiling, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as of habit. “Oh, I’m here for business.”

His brows seemed to reach his hairline, “oh...wow, that’s great! I had no idea you worked for A La Paris-”

“-I don’t. I’m collaborating with them,” she quickly corrected.

That seemed to put any further discussion to an end.

They were engulfed by silence. And yes, it was eight shades awkward and two shades nerve wracking.

Adrien's lips thinned. The way he kept her gaze- as if searching for something, left her uncomfortable in her own skin.

“Sooo, what are you doing here by the way? I thought you moved to London,” Marinette prompted, now tightly squeezing the envelope in her hold.

She watched as he hashed out a nervous chuckle, his free hand reaching for his nape. Huh, some habits never die.

“I’m actually here for business too. My father couldn’t make it so I’m here in his place for the week,” he revealed easily, his eyes moving to focus on something behind her. 

Week.

_”You’re leaving in a week??!”_

Is what she /wanted/ to say but she didn’t want to come off as weird. So instead, she settled for something more digestible.

“You still work for your dad?”

Viridescent eyes snapped back to bluebell irises and Marinette felt pinned beneath his gaze.

Again, she found his eyes searching. The way he studied her face caused discomfort to swell within her. It must have shown for he quickly averted his gaze.

“Not really, I kind of bought a portion of the company from him so I help run a few things.”

That was...surprising. If she remembered correctly, Adrien hated business.

“Anyways,” she saw as he glanced down to check his golden wrist watch- which clearly looked like it was worth more than her car, “I’m going to be late for my next meeting.” 

Looking up to meet her eyes, he flashed her a quick, model smile, “it was nice catching up with you, Marinette. I wish you the best of luck.”

Her breath quickened as her brows slightly furrowed. His tone...though it was light, she couldn’t help but catch a definite humdrum hidden within it. It was as if he was forcing himself to keep a smile and wish her well.

As he brushed past her and began to take his leave, Marinette’s stomach clenched and her heart pulsed harder than it ever had. This was her partner; her friend. She must have been reading things wrong.

Impulsively turning on her heel, she called out to him without meaning to.

“Adrien, wait!”

Her eyes carefully watched as he abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned. His brow was cocked in confusion- or maybe it was annoyance, his hand still in his pocket.

“Yes?”

Blonde hair, green eyes, tall frame, toned body. Same features, just enhanced by age. Though, one look at his posture and expression and Marinette knew the Adrien who stood there was not the same as the one who had left her six years ago.

This Adrien was stiff and formal. This Adrien was not her partner. This Adrien was foreign.

And something about the fact caused a small particle of her heart to crack.

Mustering a petite, forlorn smile, she offered him a small wave.

“It was nice catching up with you too.”

* * *

The summer breeze played with her stray strands of dark cobalt as it blew gracefully through the street.

The afternoon sun was out and proudly beaming. Small chatter filled the air but fell deaf upon Marinette’s ears.

“You okay, girl? That’s the fourth time you’ve sighed in five minutes.”

The raven head looked up to meet golden eyes surveying her with worry. Unintentionally, her lips parted, letting out yet another sigh.

Alya quirked a brow, setting down her fruit smoothie. The gesture only caused Marinette to slouch further into her chair, her fingers aimlessly twirling the straw in her cup.

“Okay. Spill.”

Crossing her arms, the journalist sat up straight. Her eyes were set on her best friend who seemed to be meandering within her thoughts, barely present.

They were seated at the end of the cafe’s patio. The place was generously full, an array of teens and young adults enjoying the great weather summer had to offer.

Marinette was aware of the fact, despite her sulking. There were a handful of ears capable of eavesdropping on where Alya was taking their conversation. And to be honest, she wasn't really fond of the idea of that happening.

Eventually, the raven head caved, heaving out another sigh. Knowing Alya, she'd beat it out of her sooner or later.

Cerulean eyes lazily shifted to meet golden.

“I’m just thinking...I still have so much to do and the wedding’s on Sunday.”

Reaching for her drink, the ombre took a long pull before releasing her straw with a pop.

“Mmm, that’s nice, hon,” scooting her chair close, she leaned in forward, chin resting in the palm of her hand, “but tell me what’s /really/ on your mind. Did something happen at your meeting? I thought you said Mr. Macho liked your designs.”

Though she rolled her eyes at the nickname, something about Alya’s words lit up Marinette’s face. No matter how hard she tried, her friend always knew what was bothering her, or at least where her mind was really at.

The thing was, Marinette wasn’t sure if she even wanted to dive into what had taken place early this morning. Faucher’s weird stunt of giving her his personal number was odd enough. Add her encounter with 'Adrien,' and well...it left an unusual heaviness within her.

Should she even call him that? Adrien?

He looked like Adrien, he sounded like Adrien but he acted and spoke anything unlike him. It was weird...and- if she were honest, kind of heartbreaking that he acted as if they hadn’t been the best of friends.

That they hadn’t laughed and told jokes, hadn’t played video games or danced at parties, hadn’t been the only two to know about the way Lila lied in the past, hadn’t done countless things together and with their friends throughout all of lycée.

He treated her as if she wasn’t someone who had meant something to him. He treated her like a stranger. As if all those memories were just some silly dream. Nonexistent.

What hurt the most was seeing him turn around upon her call. The way her mind had placed a black mask over his face and imagined a set of cat ears sprouting from his head...

If he had treated Marinette like a stranger, did that mean he’d do the same for Ladybug?

Did he even care about Ladybug?

Her heart constricted, sending out a violent throb within her chest. Did Adrien even _want_ to see his partner?

“Blueberry?”

Blinking from her thoughts, she registered the way Alya’s brows were creasing, concern vivid on her features.

Offering a small grin, the designer pushed herself from the table and sat up straight.

“I’m okay, Al, really! I just haven’t finished the dress and it’s been sitting on my mind all morning, that’s all.”

Marinette made sure to beam this time, lifting her strawberry smoothie to take a quick swing. She hated lying- especially to Alya.

She couldn’t exactly go into her problem with Adrien because her friend would never understand the _other_ bond she had with him. A bond involving flashy superhero costumes, super powers and years of partnership.

Marinette paused.

The bond that Adrien himself didn’t know he had with her.

“Well, okay. If you say so.”

Again, Alya’s voice was pulling her from her musings. She really needed to focus on girl time. What had they been talking bout again?

_Ughhh I’m such a mess._

Suddenly, a cheerful shrill rang through the air. Marinette’s eyes shot up, her attention being drawn to the source of music.

She watched as Alya fished a hand in her purse, softly cursing under her breath as she rummaged through an infinite amount of items, most likely mini bottles of lotion and her trusty flask.

“Ah Ha!” the brunette sang, finally pulling her phone.

Marinette giggled. Sometimes, she couldn’t believe they were adults- especially when Alya acted so very juvenile.

Answering the call, the ombre easily put the phone up to her ear all the while taking a small sip from her drink.

“Hello? Oh! Yeah, I’m at Barb’s…” golden eyes flicked to the young woman seated across from her, “...yeeeah she’s with me. When? Now? Oh, yeah for sure!”

Marinette frowned, leaning in to try and catch who was talking on the other end. Something about the way Alya slid that glance toward her piqued her curiosity.

“Okay. Yep, see you in ten. Later, hon.” with that the brunette set down her phone on the metal top of the round table. A definable crease set on her brows as she stared at its case.

“That...wasn’t Nino, was it?” Marinette questioned slowly.

“Nnnno,” Alya drew out. Looking up to meet her friend’s gaze, her brows further creased, as if trying to solve a riddle. “It was Chloé.”

“Chloé??” Marinette squawked, quickly pressing a hand to her lips.

A few heads turned their way and she flushed a light pink. The embarrassment was short lived though, for Alya was nodding her head. That couldn’t be right.

“I thought she was on her way to catch her flight for New York. Isn’t her fitting tomorrow?”

“That’s what I thought but…” Alya trailed off, her eyes focused on the table top.

“But?”

Golden eyes shifted to set upon sapphires, confusion swimming within them.

“She...canceled her flight.”

“What.”

“She changed her fitting to wednesday.”

Okay, this was beyond confusing at this point. Marinette swore Chloé had been waiting for this fitting from the moment Mylene had announced her engagement. She had talked everyone's ears off about it.

Marinette didn’t understand.

“Why?”

She voiced her thought without meaning to. As she saw something in Alya’s eyes shift, her shoulders squared. The slight smirk present on her friend's face seemed to confuse her even more. There was something she was clearly missing.

“Because she wants to have lunch with us,” the ombre practically sang, her smirk now turning into a full on grin.

Marinette processed her words.

What could possibly get Chloé to cancel her flight so last minute and urge her to eat lunch with them? There was no way she would do that unless something major came up. Her talk show didn’t start until later this month and she had already gotten primed at the spa yesterday for this fitting so- bluebell eyes widened as it finally clicked.

The spa. She had been so absorbed in her embarrassing encounter with Adrien that she hadn't paid much attention to the girls, instead focusing on relaxing.

Alya had told her Luka was there and Chloé was one of the last ones to arrive. Something must have happened or she may have bumped into him (hopefully not literally).

Her jaw dropped as she fixed Alya with an incredulous gaze, “No. Way. You’re kidding.”

Stifling a laugh, the journalist’s shoulders heaved as she tried to contain her hysteria.

“Nope,” she snorted, doubling over at the dry look the raven head shot her with. “Ahhh, well then, it looks like somebody owes me twenty euros.”

Pouting, Marinette fought the grin twitching the corners of her lips.

“Let’s wait until the queen bee gets here before asking for any money, Cesaire,” she quipped, crossing her arms.

Raising her shoulder in half a shrug, Alya served her friend a sly smirk, “told ya not to bet with me, Dupain-cheng.”

The two girls burst out into a fit of giggles, drawing the attention of the few people sitting near their table. Maybe it was because of the fact that neither of them noticed the eerie feeling of being watched.


	9. Suspicions And Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tuesday!

“Welcome back, mister Agreste.” 

Adrien shut his eyes, stifling an irritated groan upon hearing his assistant’s sultry voice. 

Sometimes, he felt like firing her. The only reason he kept her around was because he didn’t want to waste time looking for another PA. Time was precious, after all.

Though his back was to her, he could tell by the clicks of her heels that she was near the door to his room. 

“You seem so stressed, sir. Would you like me to help you relax?” 

This time, he rolled his eyes. 

“No, that will not be necessary.” 

“Alright,” he heard her purr before the sound of his door softly clicked shut, signaling her leave. 

Adrien heaved a sigh, shaking off his coat and loosening his tie. At times, the fabric felt more like a noose around his neck. 

Shifting his gaze to his large computer screen, he noticed how tired he looked in the dark reflection. His eyes seemed dull, face drooping with fatigue. 

“Finally! I thought you’d let her stay,” rang a grouchy voice.

This time, Adrien rolled his eyes for an entirely different reason.

“Plagg, remember what I said about boundaries?” 

The kwami seemed to ignore his chosen’s scowl as he flitted his way over to the mini fridge nested on the other side of the grand room. 

“Yeah, yeah. I keep my nose out of your business and you keep yours out of mine. Whatever.” 

As he watched the creature phase through the door, the blonde cringed at the sound of loud, careless rummaging. 

Sometimes, he wondered why he had kept Plagg around. It’s not like he needed him or the ring. Not after…

His heart throbbed and Adrien shut his eyes, shaking his head. 

The image of his mother’s corpse being hauled out of the mansion haunted him in any spare moment he’d find. It had been six years yet the memory still stung as if it were a fresh wound. 

“Hey kid, you’re running low on your gross wine stock- just sayin’.” 

Letting out an attenuate sigh, he plopped into his office chair, cradling his head within his palm. That’s why he hadn’t let go of Plagg. He was the only thing in his life that hadn’t changed; the only thing to act as a distraction from his demons. 

Slowly rocking from side to side, he sunk lower into the leather cushion. Originally, he hadn’t wanted to come back to Paris. Too many memories he just didn’t have the time to deal with. 

Green irises carefully moved to set upon the dark computer screen once more. His eyes tightened as he let out an annoyed groan. 

Everything about this trip had bothered him. Why? Because it wasn’t scheduled. It was unexpected. 

Like his father’s illness. 

His hands settled on the arms of the chair, fingers digging around the leather. What was even more unexpected was the email he had stumbled upon before his jet had taken off. 

The email consisting information he knew he wasn’t supposed to ever discover. 

The email which explained many things. The email which revealed a secret Adrien knew he was to never know of. The email which bared cold, hard blackmail towards his father. 

The email sent by an individual who signed themselves as nothing but the letter ‘M’. 

Bluebell eyes flashed through his mind and he clamped his lids shut. There was no way. 

“I know you make a lot of stupid faces but this time, you’re really outdoing yourself.” 

The sudden presence of Plagg’s voice jerked the blonde out of his musings, causing him to flounce in the chair. 

“Whoa, kid. You’re really out of it.” 

His eyes found the kwami hovering close and Adrien furrowed his brows. “You seriously need to stop doing that, Plagg.” 

Getting to his feet, he padded his way across the room over to his bed. Plagg seemed to trail close behind, apparently pleased with the attention. 

“I don’t tell you to stop making those stupid faces now, do I?” 

Ignoring his kwami’s words, he flopped onto the soft mattress face first with his arms spread out. He knew Plagg was still watching him and he was thankful the kwami had taken the hint that he wanted to be left alone. 

Inhaling the pine scent of his sheets, he allowed his muscles to finally relax. Today had been hectic to say the least. Yet even as his thoughts drifted, he couldn’t help but wander back to that email. 

Adrien didn’t understand. 

Why was this ‘M’ person even bothering to blackmail his father if they didn’t want any money in return? His thoughts trailed back to the briefcase his father had given him. 

_Gabriel told him to stow away a very important case in a new vault he had opened, not bothering to delve into detail. The phone call had been brief so the blonde didn’t bother to ask any further questions._

_Though, once he discovered the email...Adrien got suspiciously curious._

_After arriving, he spent an hour coaxing and eventually, bribing Plagg into opening the briefcase for him. He wanted to know how much cash was inside._

_With that said, he was baffled to find not money but documents about the manor; his childhood prison. Hidden within the pile was a velvet, red ring box. Curious, he opened it to find a small, cracked, blue brooch in the shape of fanning feathers. Something about it looked familiar but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what._

It didn’t make sense. 

None of it did- especially the signature. 

His mind then teetered back to this morning. He had made note of how decently she had grown into herself; her bluebell eyes still as prominent as they had always been. He recalled how startled she had seemed when bumping into him, but he figured it was probably due to what had happened yesterday afternoon. 

_'You still work for your dad?'_

He shut his eyes. It was just a coincidence. There was no way Marinette knew about his father. 

Slowly turning onto his back, he rested his forearm over his head. Green eyes fixed themselves upon the sliver of moonlight as they vacantly gazed up at the ceiling. This was such a mess. 

Still, Adrien was certain that removing the small box from the briefcase before putting it where his father had instructed him was the right move. He didn’t know why but he had a feeling it was of value.

Though, now that he was stuck babying this small brooch, he was adamant he had made the right decision- even if it had caused him the trouble of having to drag the damn thing along with him to yesterday’s sauna appointment. 

He wondered if this ‘M’ person had decided the location to the vault his father had opened. If they did, Adrien figured it was a good thing he had spent just over half a million euros last night. Because whoever this ‘M’ person was, the blonde was pretty sure they had some connection to A La Paris. 

Why else would the vault be open in that building? 

* * *

Marinette’s fleeting gaze caught sight of red peeking within the dark contours of her closet. The sliding, mirrored door was left open by a small crack.

Her feet moved without command, as did her hands as she pushed the wooden box further back, burying it beneath the bundle of hoodies folded on her shelf. 

At this point, keeping the box hidden and out of sight had become a natural instinct.

“Hmm, I see. Is there anything else you found?” 

The low, gravely and worn out voice came through her phone. Though the words were anything but, they still held a bit of wisdom. Marinette figured it was because he had grown so very old, everything he would say would hold a sagacious aura.

“No, not really…” 

There was a slight pause. 

“And you’re sure it was because of him that your...pet felt that way?” 

Marinette bit her lip. Someone must have walked into the room. 

“I-I’m not so sure if I should continue-”

“-no, no. It’s okay. Miss Gloria was just bringing me my tea.” 

Pink lips blew out an inaudible sigh. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll track down the butterfly miraculous and return it safely to the box.” 

Again, there was a pause. 

“I trust you will but tell me, Marinette...have you not contacted your partner yet?”

She cringed, her stomach twisting into knots. 

“I...I’m getting on that.”

“Marinette. Is there something you would like to tell me?” 

Bluebell eyes set upon her clenched hands with knuckles going white as snow. Marinette felt the lump in her throat return. 

It wasn't that she didn't _want_ to tell Master Fu that she wasn't sure of what to do, she just…wasn't sure of what to do. 

Sighing, Marinette slid the door shut to her closet. 

“I...I’m not sure how or...when I should…” trailing off, she forced the bulging lump down her narrowing esophagus. She wasn’t sure how to word herself. 

_Sorry Master Fu, but it’s been a while since I’ve transformed and I realized I don’t feel comfortable having ladybug appear out of the blue in public. Besides, Adrien is treating me like I’m a stranger and I’m scared he may not care about being Chatnoir anymore despite what I just told you!_

Yeah...that wasn’t going to fly. 

It seemed she had been quiet for too long for a sigh resonated from her phone’s speaker.

“It’s okay, maybe next time.” 

Great. Was she destined to always be a disappointment?

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have given me the box. I...I clearly don’t know the ropes to this as well as you do.” 

_“Marinette.”_

Her back went rigid as the sharpness of his otherwise mellow tone caught her off guard. 

“I made you guardian for a reason. Never question this. You are worthy just as you are of wearing those earrings-” her fingers brushed the plain, red studs, “-I’m here to guide yo-” his next set of words were swallowed by that nasty, gut-wrenching cough. 

Marinette winced upon hearing him wheeze. He was growing so very weak without his miraculous. She almost felt guilty for having it locked up in a box. His breathing frayed for a stretch and Marinette worried if he would ever recover. 

Just as she opened her mouth, she heard him clear his throat. Her shoulders relaxed as he spoke again. 

“Sorry about that,” his tone was light; the faintest hint of a chuckle tucked into it. It eased her knotted state but still, she couldn’t help but make sure.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes-” another cough, “yes.” 

She was skeptical but before she could continue, he was picking up from where he had left off. 

“I’m here to guide you, yes, but I cannot tell you what course of action you should take. If you feel like your partner is still unreachable, then you do what you see fit. Remember Marinette, you’re never alone, nor are you expected to carry out your duties on your own. You have the box, you have allies.” 

Her eyes snapped back to her closet, bluebell eyes catching their reflection

“I must go, we’ve talked about this for far too long. Do call me when you see fit. I'll hear from you soon, Ladybug.” 

“Of course, Master.” 

And with that, the line dropped. Marinette reached over to take her phone from her work desk when a notification brought the dark screen to life. 

Frowning, she took a closer look only to find a message from Chloé. Huh. 

  
**8:58 pm**

Chloco🐝🌻

_Going downtown tmrw. You said u wanted bling for the dress right?_

Chloco🐝🌻

_Wanna come with?_

Smiling, she quickly typed out a reply. It was just as she hit ‘send’ that another message popped up on her notification bar. 

  
**8:59 pm**

Tracy Donadieu

_Hey, darling! M.Blanc wants you at his office tomorrow at 10._

The groan which tumbled from her lips was uncalled for. 

  
**8:59 pm**

Me

Sure thing! Thanks, Trace! 

Another buzz vibrated her phone.

  
**9:00 pm**

Chloco🐝🌻

_Kk, see u at 11 x_

Awe shit.

  
**9:00 pm**

Me

Ahh coco I have a meeting at 10 😥

  
**9:00 pm**

Chloco🐝🌻

_Again???_

  
**9:01 pm**

Me

Yeah...Faucher wants to discuss something apparently 😕

  
**9:01 pm**

Chloco🐝🌻

_Ridiculous. Tell him to fuck off 🙄_

  
**9:01 pm**

Me

-_-

Me

I’m not trying to lose this deal 😪😪

  
**9:02 pm**

Chloco🐝🌻

_Tbh you don’t need it. You’re gonna be successful either way ;)_

  
**9:02 pm**

Me

:,)

Me

Thanks bebe💕💕

* * *

  
**9:02 pm**

Mari💙✨

_:,)_

Mari💙✨

_Thanks bebe💕💕_

Chloé smiled, perfectly manicured nails click clacking away on her screen. 

_See you 11:30...I kinda want to ask you something about Luka…_

Catching her lip between her teeth, she backpedaled, trying again.

_See you 11:30...I kinda want to talk to u about u know who_

Staring at the message, her thumb trembled over the ‘send’ button before hitting the backspace key as hard as she could.

  
**9:04 pm**

Me

See you 11:30 x

And like that, she clicked off the chat, locking her phone. With a small sigh, the blonde flopped back onto her bed. 

Baby blue eyes stared vacantly at her golden chandelier before slamming shut. She could feel her heart thudding within her chest. 

This was bad. Really, really bad. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An assistant, a crush and a broken brooch. 
> 
> We're getting somewhere👀


	10. Combustible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) sorry for being late
> 
> 2) buckle up because things are about to get...explosive

For most people, Mornings were the worst part of the day. You could ask anyone and they’d gladly agree that the blithering annoyance of having to drag oneself out of bed is by far, the worst feeling.

Adrien Agreste was not most people.

Waking up at half past eight sharp, he hadn’t so much as complained about his morning workout or the fatigue he still felt from the day prior. He was practically a machine; motorized to go through everything on his schedule without a hitch. 

He wasn’t always like that, though, and he was aware of the fact himself. 

His eyes wandered across his large monitor, reading the emails he needed to sort through for the day. His gaze lazily traveled to his bookmarked column and his fingers twitched. 

Looking over his shoulder, he made sure that Plagg was still dozing away on the shelf above his bed before pulling up _the_ email. 

\-------------------------

_Greetings,_

_I’ll be collecting our negotiated package from the vault. Be sure it’s there before Tuesday or I will slowly expose everything you’ve tried to sweep under the rug. Don’t disappoint me, Hawkmoth. Unless you still have a keen taste for chaos._

_-M_

\-------------------------

Adrien didn’t know how long he had been staring until a sudden knock on his door jerked him out of his captured state. Quickly clicking the tab shut, he let out a sigh. 

“Enter.” 

The sound of heels click clacking against wood resonated in his room.

A pair of blanched, milky hands settled on his shoulders from behind his chair. He felt his muscles tense before willing them to ease. 

“Good morning, mister Agreste.” 

Her voice was rough and playful- something Adrien didn’t have time for. 

Before he could react, her hands were sliding down his front only to clasp over his chest as she slowly leaned into him. 

Sighing, Adrien shut his eyes, fingers massaging the ridge of his brows. The feeling of her warm breath grazing against his ear sent an involuntary shiver down his back. 

“I hope you slept well because they want you at the new office at eleven,” coquettish, red lips whispered with a rasp and lingering grin.

Pushing off her hands, the blonde leaned away from her touch. 

“Get me some coffee to go then, Claudia.”

There was a moment of silence before he felt a hand lightly squeeze his shoulder. 

“Of course, sir.” 

* * *

She felt her body stiffen as her breath came too fast. Her blood thundered about her veins.

“Are you following me?” 

Green eyes blinked in a startle as they turned their gaze to set upon the young woman. Adrien almost chuckled as he saw the familiar pair of bluebell eyes. He just couldn’t seem to shake them off his tail, now could he? 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smiled as he stepped out of the elevator. 

Her hands clenched into fists, a fine shudder running down her form.

Marinette studied the way he stood. Both his hands were tucked into the pocket of his yale blue coat. His light, pastel blue shirt was just as snug as the white one from yesterday under that same, grey vest. The green tie matched his eyes and Marinette wondered if he had worn it for that reason. 

Crossing her arms, she cocked a hip to the side, “I was here for a meeting.” 

Raising a blonde brow, he seemed pretty much unfazed. She was about to ask what his deal was when he opened his mouth. 

“Nice. I work here.” 

_What?_

“I bought the modeling agency in this building yesterday,” he easily shrugged.

Marinette blinked before turning a shade pink. She must have let that thought slip out. Her throat closed up and she willed herself to keep steady. She would not let this small, embarrassing outburst sway her demeanour. 

It seemed as if Adrien had grown tired of this conversation for he let out a sigh, pulling out one of his hands to check his watch. 

“Look, Marinette, I need to go before I run late.”

Her gut clenched as she noted how he hadn’t even bothered to look at her. Was she really that big of a nuisance? 

“Well...before you go, I just wanted to ask; rumor has it that Ivan invited you to his wedding...that true?” 

Her cheeks seared a hot pink- not because she was flustered but because of how Adrien reacted. 

She watched, completely stunned as he rolled those beautiful, green eyes in a scoff. What he said next only boiled her blood. 

“Yeah. Though, I don’t have time for foolish distractions. I’m running on a schedule.” 

_Foolish. Foolish? DISTRACTIONS?_

It seemed he was also unaware of her raging state for he easily went to side step his way past her. Though before he could, Marinette moved. 

Planting her foot firmly in his path, she narrowed her irises upon him. Something in those light, bluebell eyes darkened. 

“What is your problem?” she questioned slowly, her voice low and laced with venom. 

Adrien blinked, frowning at her sudden change in state. The way he glanced at his watch only further annoyed her. She was surprised when he went to steer his way around her again before being ultimately blocked by her other foot.

Letting out what she could only describe as an exasperated groan, he locked his eyes with hers. 

“What’s yours?” he chewed out tersely. 

At first, she could only stare, completely dumbfounded. In all her years, she never, ever expected those words to come out of Adrien’s mouth- especially in _that_ tone. 

Her brows drew a hard crease as she sputtered incredulously before hitting him with a hard, “YOU!”

Straightening up, Adrien dug his hands into the pockets of his coat as he squared his shoulders. 

“Me? Says the girl who’s blocking my way!” taking a step forward, he failed to get past her stubborn ground yet again, causing him to let out an irritated growl, “can you let me through?? I get that being late was your thing Marinette but it isn’t mine. Move.” 

Her mouth hung open and she didn’t know how long she gaped at those incensed, viridescent eyes glowing with annoyance. Marinette took in his furrowed brows and the way his jaw was set. 

He wasn’t joking. He was serious. And something within her snapped. 

The words came out like poison, sharpened by the points of her teeth. 

“You’re such an ass,” she huffed, low and feathered with an airy, almost derogatory laugh.

This seemed to stun the blonde for he reeled back, flabbergasted. “Excuse me?” 

“Seriously, Adrien? Foolish distraction? You’re going to call your friend’s wedding a _foolish distraction_?” taking a daunting step forward, she jabbed an accusatory finger at him, “you know what’s really foolish? Ivan inviting you!” 

Her hips swayed as she continued to stalk towards him, her advance causing his own two feet to shuffle backwards. Before he knew it, his back was pressed flush against the wall, his body pinned in place with her lethal gaze. 

“Because if he knew you’d say something as douchey as calling his big day foolish, he would have never sent you that invite.” 

Her words seethed with disgusted rage. Her eyes turned cold, void of their usual charismatic cheer. 

She watched as he visibly swallowed, something shifting in those hard, emerald eyes. The electric charge sizzling between their gaze suddenly subsided. 

“That’s...not what I meant...I have a tight schedule.” Adrien uttered slowly, carefully choosing his words as if to keep the young woman before him from exploding. 

Marinette steadily blinked, reeling back. Sadly, it seemed Adrien’s bleak attempt at diffusing the situation had pitifully failed. 

“Well I’m sorry your ‘tight’ schedule gives you the excuse to call your friend’s wedding a foolish distraction,” she huffed, crossing her arms, “honestly Adrien, EVERYONE’S going to be there,” Marinette rolled her eyes while stating the obvious. “Would it REALLY kill you to drop by for five minutes?” 

The blonde in question opened his mouth but before he could say anything, the raven head cut him off. Facepalming, Marinette screwed her eyes shut, “actually wait- nevermind,” lifting her head, she locked her fiery sapphires with grassy eyes, “DON’T do that.” 

Her next set of words, to Adrien, were by far the worst. Glossed in a sickeningly sweet tune, they melted off her tongue like honey. 

“I’ll _gladly_ let everyone know what a total ASSHOLE you’ve become-” she smiled, the innocent yet razor-like gesture causing his facade to twitch. 

Even so, she couldn't stop. It kept flowing out of her like tar. Hideous and toxic. 

“-that-that you can’t even FATHOM the idea of dropping by a wedding you were _personally_ invited to. Why? Because you’re some cool, elite business big boy now? Spare everyone's let down. You don’t need to be a jerk.” 

The way he visibly flinched upon hearing her end with that hard 'k' got her mouth to finally trap shut. Ice slithered down her back as she realized the sting of her words. Her muscles eased as Marinette downcasted her softening gaze. 

This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t have yelled like that, despite his oddly rude behavior. She just didn’t understand why he was acting like this. 

Sighing, Marinette tried again, this time, much calmer.

“I don’t know what happened during the past few years that turned you into…” she gestured to his form, “...this. I’m sorry,” hurdling past the sudden lump in her throat, she forced her gaze to meet his. “I’m sorry, Adrien...”

Her skin crawled with ants as she felt her pulse pound harder against her chest. His eyes were carefully set on hers, almost entranced by her shift in tone.

Her shoulders slacked as she drew a breath. There was no going back. 

She had been right. This Adrien before her was nothing like the one she had cherished and come to love six years ago. 

This Adrien wasn’t like himself.

“ ...I’m sorry whatever it was...got you to turn out like this-” she continued, her voice growing disheartened.

This Adrien was like a carbon copy of someone else.

“-like your dad,” she finished softly, finally stepping away and shuffling into the elevator. She didn’t look back, choosing to keep her focus on pressing the button for the ground floor. 

His voice came after a moment, uneven and laced with disgust, “I am not my father.”

Marinette stared numbly at the columns of buttons, “your dad is a cold and ruthless man,” skating her gaze upward to look her former partner in the eye, her heart clenched as the words left her mouth, “look in a mirror and tell me if you see a difference.”

Before she could see his reaction, the steel doors shut with a soft ding, leaving her eyes to stare at nothing but her own reflection. 

The descend to the lobby was a silent one. Marinette could feel sweat glossing her back beneath the light material of her sheer, white blouse. The fabric clung to her skin and she felt her stomach drop. 

A part of her couldn’t believe she had just said what she had said to his face. 

Another part couldn’t believe she had yelled at him altogether. At _Adrien_. Fiddling with the bow on her navy, paperbag pants, her balance wavered as the lift came to a stop. 

So lost in thought, she didn’t notice the body walking into the elevator. Stumbling into the young woman, Marinette snapped out of her daze and darted an arm out to catch the damsel before she hit the ground. 

“I’m so sorry!” she squeaked, helping the petite, pale woman to her feet. 

“No, no! It’s fine, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I- OH MY GOSH ARE YOU MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG???” 

Marinette blinked as she saw the woman rock back on her heels, her tight, dirty blonde curls bouncing as she did. Her rich, blue eyes sparkled like a glittering ocean. 

“Uh, y-yeah! Um, I’m sorry but do I know you?” 

She watched as the woman’s pupils dilated before she flushed a soft pink.

“Oh! Ah, n-no. I’m just a fan of Bonne Chance,” she replied sheepishly, “I love all your designs! Especially the lady luck summer dress.”

It was Marinette’s turn to flush pink. Sure she had received praise and compliments from all kinds of customers- but she had never run into (literally) or encountered a fan before. This was new. 

“Oh...th-thank you!” Marinette chuckled nervously, unsure of what to say. 

“I’m so sorry for walking into you!” 

The dirty-blonde tilted her head, observing the designer. Suddenly, something flickered in her steel blue eyes and she let out a small, nearly inaudible gasp.

“Oh my gosh! I had no idea the rumors were true about your collaboration with A La Paris! Congratulations!”

The bluenette’s smile wavered ever so subtly. Uh oh. Would Faucher blast her for someone finding out before the announcement date? 

_Damage control, Marinette! DAMAGE CONTROL._

“Ahh, I’m not so sure about that…” she noticed how the glow in the blonde’s eyes faded, “...b-but I’m working on it!” 

_What are you doing??? Shut up before you get in trouble!_

“Ooo! Good luck with that!” 

Marinette internally sighed before flashing the young woman a quick smile. “And you are?”

“Hailey.” 

“Nice to meet you, Hailey. I hope to see you again!” 

The squeal which came from her mouth was enough to warm the raven head’s cheeks.

Giving the young woman a quick hug, she waved her off as the blonde stepped into the elevator. 

Just as the doors were gliding shut, Marinette noticed Hailey was holding a caramel satchel embroidered with intricate patterns and little gems- one of her boutique’s earliest bags. Smiling, she turned on her heels and made her way through the grand lobby and out the door.

Pulling her phone from her back pocket, she texted Chloé a quick message before calling for an Uber. 

Letting out a heavy sigh, the raven head made her way to the corner of the block. After this morning, she knew one thing for sure. It broke her heart to admit, but she had to accept reality for what it was. 

She couldn’t count on Adrien. 

She had lost her partner. 

And Marinette wanted to weep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> See you Sunday!💕


	11. Honey Bee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so 2 things:
> 
> 1) sorry for not updating Sunday
> 
> 2) here's a long chapter to make up for it

Bluebell eyes observed the sparkling brilliance of diamond studded flowers hanging from the rack. The bright lighting of the fabric store gave the gems much to reflect and refract.

Little lines of rainbows shifted as short, manicured nails moved the netted material holding together the jeweled design in inspection.

Chloé’s eyes glanced between the jewels and Marinette’s painful silence as the raven head continued to assess the design. There was something about the way her dark brows furrowed that piqued her curiosity. 

Sure, Marinette was picky about her fabric but she was never one to remain quiet. At least, not for _this_ long. Something was clearly on the bluenette’s mind and it was gnawing at the blonde. 

After about another minute of gut wrenching silence, Chloé huffed, rolling her eyes. 

“Seriously Marinette, if I knew you’d be as talkative as poochy is when he’s asleep, I wouldn’t have invited you.” 

This seemed to snap the raven head out of whatever trance she was under for she stood taller, her head turning to face the blonde.

“Are you...indirectly calling me a bitch?” she stated slowly, cocking a brow.

Chloé sighed, crossing her arms, “no. I’m _saaaying_ you’re being awfully quiet- more than when you day drink.”

She noticed the way her bluebell eyes dilated before they turned away from her gaze. 

Yep. Something was definitely up.

Taking a small step towards the raven head, she tried to meet her eyes. 

“Are you okay? Something on your mind?” 

There was a slight pause.

Then, without warning, glittering sapphires snapped to meet a sea of baby blue. 

For a split second, Chloé caught a tinge of hesitation lingering within those eyes and she wondered if that was the reason to Marinette’s lack of words. 

After a small stretch of silence accompanied by a short game of keep-my-gaze, the raven head returned her attention to the jewels hanging on the racks. 

“Faucher offered to give me an office in the building,” she mentioned matter-of-factly, inspecting the dotted crystals. 

“Oh my gosh, seriously? Congrats! That’s…” Chloé stalled when she saw no sign of excitement, “...amazing.” 

Instead, Marinette’s shoulders drooped lower, as if an invisible force was weighing them down. There was conflict vivid in her eyes and the blonde put two and two together. 

“...don’t tell me you declined his offer.” 

Upon this, the bluenette sighed for a second time, finally taking the mesh strip of white, jeweled flowers from the rack. 

“Not exactly…” she muttered. 

Blinking, the talk show host crossed her arms. Arching a perfectly sketched golden brow, she narrowed her eyes, fixing her accusatory gaze upon her friend. 

“Mari.” 

“What?” 

Chloé watched as Marinette carelessly tossed the flowers into the basket hanging on her arm. She also noted how the girl so obviously avoided her speculative gaze.

As the raven head shuffled towards the front counter, Chloé carefully towed a few paces behind. Observing the transaction with furrowing eyes, a million thoughts raced through the blonde’s mind. 

What had Marinette meant by ‘not exactly’? The Paris Towers were the gems of the city. To get a spot in those buildings was like finding gold in the middle of the sahara. Anyone who was anybody in the fashion world would be ecstatic upon an offer like that.

Which is why Marinette’s lack of interest confused her. 

As they walked out of the store, the two continued down the street in silence. Chloé immediately took note of the busy road and slid her oversized shades from her head back down to the bridge of her nose. The place was slowly filling with bodies and she really wasn't in the mood to be recognized.

As the clicks of her pumps hit against the cement, the more conspicuous Marinette’s silence became. By the time they had made it to the corner of the wide street, Chloé halted in her tracks, promptly turning to face the raven head. 

“Why are you so quiet.” 

It wasn’t a question anymore. It was a demand. 

She was tired of being tethered along, blind to everything occurring before her. Maybe she was pushing her boundaries but she honestly didn’t care. If there was one thing she had learned about Marinette over the years of befriending her, it was that the young girl was good at keeping secrets. 

Chloé hated secrets.

When she didn't answer, it was only natural for the blonde to place her hands on her hips. 

" _DID_ you decline the offer???"

She watched her carefully, observing the wave of emotions as they flashed within her bluebell eyes, one by one. First, annoyance, then guilt, followed by uncertainty and lastly, defeat.

Weird.

Finally, the raven head sighed and hesitated before speaking. The slight pause practically killed the blonde as she leaned in, anticipation thundering within her veins.

"I told him I'd think about it," Marinette let out quietly.

"...WHAT?" 

She had practically squawked the question, not willing to believe her friend hadn't already signed all the paperwork. Seriously, WHAT was Marinette thinking?

"I just...I don't know. It was too sudden and I didn't want to make the decision on the spot," the girl massaged the bridge of her nose, "I need time to think."

Suddenly, a loud honk caused both girls to jump, startled by its abrupt presence. There was a cab waiting for them to cross the busy intersection. It seemed the driver assumed they were planning on walking across with the way they were standing on the curb.

Waving off the cab, Chloé turned to her friend who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. 

"What's there to think about?" she started, turning the corner and continuing down the street, "you get to finally have a functioning office in the hottest place in town."

Kicking little pebbles scattered on the sidewalk, Marinette shuffled alongside Chloé's leisurely pace.

With her lips puckered and skewed in a pout, she knitted her brows in concentration.

"I already have an office though," she mumbled, almost under her breath.

This caused the honey bee to come to an abrupt stop mid-step. Her back went stiff before she whirled to face her friend with her arms crossed and a hip cocked out.

"Mari. Sweetie. That _smaaaall,_ itsy bitsy room you have in the very back of your boutique? Yeah, that's not called an office, Marinette, that's a janitor's closet," she finished bluntly, flashing the girl a strained, tight lipped grin.

When the designer remained quiet, Chloé sighed, dropping her arms, "honestly, if I were you, I would have my claws in this deal the moment it was offered."

And with that, they continued in silence, though this time, it was mutual. Yet even so, by the time they made it to the street stalls, the question still hung in the air.

Why was Marinette avoiding to talk about her killer deal?

Although the bluenette seemed unfazed by it, currently occupied with scanning the stalls for anything that shimmered, Chloé on the other hand, couldn't stomach the question.

It was as they were inspecting some glittering, white tulle that she finally blurt it out.

"You’re growing."

Reclining to stand in level with the blonde, Marinette raised her gaze only to see Chloé staring vacantly at the bundle of sheer fabric from behind her sunglasses. 

Her arms were tightly crossed if the acrylics digging into her skin had anything to say and Marinette wondered what she meant.

After a slight pause, the blonde continued, "your brand is expanding, Mari...I don't get it," furrowing her brows in a deep crease, she skated her gaze over to rest on a pair of glittering sapphires. "Isn't this what you've always wanted?"

Marinette could do nothing but stare. Stare as Chloé assessed her stricken state from behind those large, ebon shades. 

"Why did you say no-"

"-I didn't," the designer let out firmly.

The blonde evaluated her carefully before saying her next set of words.

"Then why the hesitation?"

* * *

Marinette stared blankly at those overly large sunglasses, unsure of how to answer. She could make out her reflection in its dark lenses and it didn't look too convincing.

Why _had_ she hesitated? 

Wasn’t that the new million euro question? 

Despite her every attempt at shutting down the topic, she understood why the honey bee was interested in the reasoning behind her stutter. 

Chloé did have a point. 

Even though Marinette knew she'd gain nothing but benefit from this deal, still, she went ahead and slammed on the brakes. 

Why?

Truth was...she didn’t really know herself. 

_Liar._

A voice like hers, except much sinister, sneered within her head.

Stifling a sigh, she squared her shoulders, leaning some of her weight on the display table carrying the tulle. 

She couldn’t tell Chloé about Faucher giving her his personal number because she already knew how the blonde would ultimately react.

Her eyes mentally rolled at the sound of ‘wow, your boss is a sugar daddy~’ comment practically echoing in her mind. The voice resembled Chloé’s and honestly, Marinette wasn’t surprised. 

Though, if she were being honest, Faucher wasn’t really that big of a deal. It was the _other_ CEO she resented bumping into for a second time that made her really stall. 

Because in all honesty, Marinette _had_ been struck with the deal out of the blue. She really _had_ wanted time to think, but...after her last encounter with Adrien, the idea of working in the same building as him left a rather sour taste in her mouth. 

Of course, she was debating whether to tell the baby blue-eyed beauty before her or keep it a secret. 

Judging by Chloé's darkening brows and the impatient tapping of her foot, she figured she should probably think of an excuse good enough to pass as plausible bs.

“Just...the hassle of moving, Chlo...it’s too overwhelming.” 

Booyah. 

The way Chloé's pursed lips relaxed allowed Marinette to finally breathe. 

She believed her. Mainly because it wasn’t really a lie. Moving sucked. 

A palm of warmth landed on her shoulder and the raven head snapped out of her musings. Her eyes registered the small smile curving along the blonde’s pink lips. 

“It’s okay, I know how hectic moving can be,” removing her hand from the bluenett’s shoulder, Chloé shrugged, “when I moved studios, it was literal hell.” 

Marinette watched as the blonde crossed her arms, her pale, Chanel summer dress swaying to the warm breeze. 

“So if that’s what’s holding you back, don’t let it keep you from building your name! If you’re still unsure, at least go in and have a look at the place before completely rejecting it, you know?”

She didn’t understand what it was but something about her words struck a chord within her body. Marinette felt a faint pitter-patter tickling beneath her skin, her back suddenly going rigid. 

Wow. She had never thought Chloé of all people would be giving her the advice she needed to hear. Strange, how life worked. 

The blonde's words had sunk in yet Marinette's pulse didn’t cease its quickening beat. Suddenly, goosebumps sprouted down the length of her arms and an instantaneous urge to spill her guts surged from the pit of her stomach. 

The words climbed her throat, bubbling up like scalding bile. Before she could contain it, the confession slipped from between her lips. 

“I cussed out Adrien today.” 

Her heart rammed against her chest as her bluebell eyes bulged in shock. 

For a moment, Marinette thought the blonde hadn't heard her over the bustling crowd. 

However, that shard of wishful thinking vanquished the second her friend's body broke from its frozen state.

“...what?” Chloé blinked, tearing her gaze from the fabric to look at the bluenette with ascending brows.

Marinette stared back in horror, not believing she had just blurted what she had blurted. 

“You- you what?” Chloé snorted, this time bringing a hand to cover her mouth. 

Burrowing her face into her hands, Marinette let out a long, rugged groan as her cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her word vomit had opened a can of worms she really didn’t want to get into. 

Mumbling a string of indescribable, muffled noises, she wasn’t surprised when Chloé took a hold of her hands and removed them from her face. 

“There. Now, what was that?” 

She could practically hear the giddiness in the blonde’s voice. That shit-eating grin plastering her face wasn’t making Marinette feel any better either. 

Sighing, the girl tried a second time, “I ran into him at the office earlier and...he…” her heart convulsed at the memory, her mind unable to erase the hardness his face had held, “...he said some things and they triggered me.”

There was a moment of silence. 

And then, “holy shit.” 

The words were feathered with a breathy laugh and Marinette almost didn’t believe the humor Chloé saw in her words. 

Pushing up her shades, the blonde met eyes with the raven head, a slight twinkle dancing within her own. 

“Honestly, I’m not surprised. It was bound to happen somewhere along the line,” she snorted. 

A flash of startling, white light filled the space between them and for a moment, nothing but phosphens twinkled before their eyes. A string of camera shutters struck their ears followed by an unfamiliar, deep voice yelling at the top of its lungs. 

“CHLOÉ BOURGEOIS! CHLOÉ BOURGEOIS! IS IT TRUE YOU WERE SPENDING TIME WITH MUSIC SENSATION LUKA COUFFINE AT LES PARADIS SUNDAY AFTERNOON?” 

Blinking away the little stars scattering across her vision, Chloé’s lips hardened into a deep, irritated frown. 

“CHLOÉ! MISS CHLOÉ! WHO IS YOUR FRIEND?”

Fixing her shades back into place, she grabbed a hold of the raven head’s hand, her fingers tightening around her wrist as she elbowed her way out of the small crowd that had suddenly gathered. 

“IS SHE YOUR NEW DESIGNER? WHO ARE YOU WEARING?”

It was chaos. 

Calling her chauffeur in an instant, she shoved the blunette into the back of her golden Jaguar before ducking in herself. Even after its door closed, the men still flocked towards them, banging on the windows for answers.

“Arthur, drive.” 

“But mademoiselle, your things-”

“DRIVE.”

The car eased into traffic, changing lanes until it was able to accelerate out of the heard of paparazzi chasing after them.

Marinette could feel her butt throbbing from the graceless fall. The leather seat was cold and uncomfortable despite it being of the highest quality. She figured it was because her tush was used to the soft material of her Sedan.

The bags in her lap crickled as she shifted in her seat. Sitting upright, her hands reached for the seatbelt and fastened it in place. 

Apart from the leather, she had to hand it to Chloé, her car was not only spacious but exquisite. Of course, it was no surprise- the blonde did have a knack of accepting nothing less than exceptional.

Glancing over to her left, she noted the stiffness in the girl’s posture and the way her pink lips were drawn in a taut line. Suddenly, the quiet in the car became all too obvious. 

Although Chloé hadn’t mentioned it the day before, it seemed her and Alya’s speculation was correct. 

With that said, it was only natural for her to ask.

“So...Luka, huh?”

Marinette observed the way Chloe's jaw clenched. 

There was no answer, and the silence filing them slowly became deafening. 

Marinette’s stomach wound itself into knots, and she regretted letting the tease slip from her lips. 

If she were honest, she did appreciate the change in subject. Talking about her meltdown towards Adrien was at the bottom of her list. 

“Arthur, take us to Barb’s coffee and sweets.”

“Yes, mademoiselle.” 

Bluebell eyes darted to her left and she was surprised to see the blonde looking out her tinted window. 

It seemed Chloé wanted to talk after all. 

* * *

As the waiter set down two pink lemonades, Marinette made sure to thank him. They were seated two tables down from where they had sat yesterday. 

Chloé hadn't bothered to take off her shades, her arms still crossed from when they took their seats. The blunette couldn’t tell if it was her words that had ruined the blonde’s good mood or the paparazzi. 

“...when’s your flight?” 

She couldn’t see them but Marinette knew those baby blue eyes were holding her gaze. 

“In five hours.” 

Talk about blunt. 

“Got everything packed?” 

“Yeah,” she heard her sigh. 

Marinette's fingers left the straw they were playing with as she drew a breath. 

“Chlo,” the raven head started softly, her shoulders squaring as she leaned in, “you know you can talk to me, right? Something’s clearly bothering you.” 

A few moments passed, Marinette’s pulse pounding harder the longer her friend remained quiet. 

Just when she was about to back down, Chloé’s shoulders slackened and a heavy, drawn-out sigh tumbled from between her perfectly pink lips. 

Dropping her arms, the blonde shifted in her seat, pulling the chair closer to the round table. 

A smile quirked the corners of Marinette’s lips as she saw those oversized shades come off. 

From the way those azure eyes were settled on the drink before her, the raven head could tell Chloé was debating something. Patiently waiting, she continued to sip on her icy beverage, her eyes never leaving that curtain of blonde. 

“...he said he’d text me.” 

It was soft spoken and Marinette had to strain her ears to catch it.

She waited for her to continue but when Chloé remained silent, she scooted her chair closer so that her elbows could rest on the table. 

“Today?” the raven head prompted gently. 

There was a slight pause before the blonde spoke again, her voice growing smaller. 

“Yeah.” 

Oh. 

It didn’t take much for Marinette to put two and two together. 

“He...hasn't texted, has he?”

She watched the way Chloé sighed, how her chest deflated and head hung. The sight made her heart sink. 

“Oh Chloco…” 

“Whatever,” the girl rolled her eyes, brushing away the comfort. 

Marinette frowned, “don’t say that. I’m sure Luka has his reasons. He is pretty busy nowadays, you know?” 

“He asked about you.” 

Okay, what now? 

Marinette blinked, setting down her drink. The obvious confusion must have been apparent for Chloé continued in a beat. 

“He asked me how you were before congratulating me on my show’s upcoming third season debut,” twirling the straw, she began stirring the contents in the tall glass, “when I told him we talk a lot, he seemed...happy.” 

Marinette's stomach dropped as she saw the way Chloé’s brows slightly creased. 

“Chloé,” sapphire eyes softened as they met baby blue, “I can assure you that Luka and I are strictly friends.” 

The bluenette kept her gaze before the blonde's eyes fell to her drink once more. She watched as Chloé's hand found her cheek, her elbow propping her weight on the table.

“Didn’t seem like that to me,” she heard her mumble. 

“Well, it is,” Marinette insisted before sighing, “it’s almost been two years and we only dated for like, what? Three months? Barely four. My point is- Luka and I were a thing, sure, but we both knew whatever we had wouldn’t work. We’re over it, Chlo. There’s nothing but a mutual understanding of friendship between us.” 

It took a moment but eventually, those bright, blue eyes skated up to meet a pair of shimmering sapphires. 

“You sure?” 

The raven head reached over, setting her hand atop the blondes'. A small smile splayed on her lips. 

“A hundo percent.” 

The faint quirk of those pink lips was enough to make Marinette beam. 

“Besides, we barely talk so that explains why he probably asked you,” Marinette waved off, her grin stretching as Chloé finally cracked a smile. 

The heaviness between the two subsided, replaced with the usual warmth which lingered between them. 

Sighing, Marinette pulled out her phone and began typing out a text. 

Quirking a brow, Chloé lifted her straw to her lips, “who are you texting?” 

Marinette’s thumbs paused, her eyes peering up from her screen. 

“Alya. I owe her twenty euros,” she muttered. 

The laughter which erupted from the blonde was enough to turn the heads of everyone in the patio. Before Marinette knew it, she was laughing along herself.

She honestly didn’t know how long they sat there, dying in the high of their hysteria. Eventually, when the two of them managed to (somehow) calm down, the raven head knew she was cornered.

For the way Chloé’s gaze landed on hers, the designer could practically _feel_ those blue eyes pinning her in place. 

“Now...before we were so rudely interrupted back there by those ridiculous paps, what were you saying about Adrien?” 

Swallowing, Marinette’s hands slowly balled into fists. Great. There was no point in hiding it anymore.

Sighing, she downcasted her gaze, unable to look the blonde in the eye. 

“He...was being an ass and I...kinda snapped,” the raven head mumbled quietly. 

What followed was a long stretch of silence. The sun hid behind rolling clouds and Marinette let the shadows it brought cool and unravel her knotted state. 

After what felt like eons, she heard Chloé sigh, “I should have told you at the spa…” 

Looking up, sapphire eyes were able to catch a cloud of guilt glossing those baby blue orbs before they darted away, setting their distant gaze on the pink lemonade melting before them. 

Leaning forward, Marinette watched Chloé slosh the contents of her drink around with her straw before she spoke again. 

“Adrien’s...different now,” her eyes hesitantly moved to set on a pair of bluebell, “he rarely ever talks to me and even when he does, it’s always about business.” 

Scoffing under her breath, the raven head reached for her drink. Business, huh? She definitely knew _that_.

“I don't think he really talks to anyone these days...but by that look on your face, I feel like whatever went down between you guys is weighing heavy on you. Mind me asking why?” 

Taking a long pull from her lemonade, the bluenette made a face when the bitter aftertaste left a remnant of tanginess on her tongue. 

“I don’t know...I guess it’s just…” Marinette furrowed her brows, gazing off at nothing in particular as she tried to find the words, “I guess...I never really expected him to be different,” looking up, bluebell eyes locked with azure. “To change.” 

Chloé blinked before furrowing her own brows, “what do you mean, Mari?”

When the bluenette in question remained silent, the blonde decided to elaborate, “What? Did you really expect Adrien to be the same Adrien you knew seven years ago?” 

That’s when the truth struck Marinette. 

And it struck _hard_. Of course she didn’t- or rather, she shouldn’t have expected him to be the same, charming, gentle, kind and slightly goofy Adrien Agreste. Of course he would be different...she just didn’t expect said ‘different’ to be so startlingly jarring to the point of unrecognition. 

“I mean...yeah but…” heaving out a sigh, the designer shook her head, “you should have seen the way he was talking, Chlo. He was so, so cold. I almost didn’t even believe half the things he was saying.” 

Sticking out her bottom lip in a small pout, Chloé leaned forward. Reaching over, she gently placed her hand atop Marinette’s, “I think you’re in denial, sweety.” 

Upon this, the raven head blinked, retracting her hand in one, fluid motion.

With her dark brows furrowing in confusion, the words tumbled from her lips, “what do you mean??”

Shoulders slacking, Chloé rolled her eyes before gently setting her gaze upon the girl.

“You’re not allowing the idea of Adrien being any different from when you last saw him.”

“That’s not true, I-”

Holding up a hand, the blonde shut down whatever justification the bluenette was aiming to convey. 

“No, Mari. I mean, you’re going about this all wrong. Yes, you know that people change but you’re failing to realize they may not always in the way you’d like them to. Take me for example,” flipping the curtain of her straight, blond bob over her shoulder, she threw the bluenette a quick wink, “I changed, didn’t I?”

Smiling, Marinette fought the urge to roll her eyes. 

“You’d agree I’m nothing like I was all those years ago, right? Who I am now is nothing like the girl I was then,” a sudden shadow fell upon her baby blue eyes with what she said next, “even so, I still carry some of the traits I had back then with me now...like, when I annoy you or call you a loser,” she giggled. 

Clearing her throat, she continued, “my point is, if you’re okay with me changing...why can’t you swallow the fact that Adrien can drastically change too? Why? Just because he’s a little cold now?” her eyes softened as she leaned in, “isn’t that a bit unfair, Marinette? You’re allowing everyone else to change. Everyone but him.”

Leaning back into her chair, Chloé rocked on her heels while making a show of flicking her wrist, “because Adrein Agreste just _haaas_ to remain the same golden boy he was,” placing a hand over her heart and an arm across her forehead, she continued dramatically, “our precious merryberry can’t handle the thought of him being any less than.”

Sitting up straight, she dropped her arms to her sides as her eyes narrowed on a pair of glowing sapphires completely transfixed on her words.

"You did it again, Marinette. You put these wild expectations on him without even realizing,” she let out in sotto voce, pulling her straw out of her glass, “and when he turned out to be the complete opposite of everything you had let yourself believe,” letting go of the straw from her hold, she watched as those bluebell eyes followed it as it fell. 

“You lost it,” she finished softly. 

Marinette felt a steady current running through her veins, tickling her every nerve in shock. Her hands slightly shook as the revelation of Chloé’s- surprisingly wise- words brought new insight. 

As much as she hated to admit it, the blonde had a point. 

And realizing the fact only made her skin crawl. 

She was just about to thank the talk show host for her whimsical yet meaningful advice when she noticed that her face wrinkling in attentiveness. Her chin was pointed to her chest and by the looks of it, it seemed she was straining her ears in an attempt to hear something. 

Just as Marinette went to ask what it was that she was trying to hear, Chloé suddenly spun her head, looking over her shoulder. Curious, Marinette followed her gaze, observing the empty road with a few cars parked on the other side here and there.

There was nothing in particular which stood out yet the blonde kept staring off into the street. 

“What is it?” 

It took awhile but eventually, Chloé turned around, a frown puckering her brows. 

“Nothing...just thought someone was standing there.” 

“On the other side?” Marinette asked, tilting her head. 

“Yeah, I just got the feeling someone was staring, you know?” 

Humming, the raven head took a small sip from her now watered down lemonade, “mmm, maybe it’s the paps.” 

“Oh god no.” 

Calling for the tab, Chloé quickly helped the bluenette gather her things before the two girls moved from the patio. 

Sometimes, Marinette hated paparazzi.

* * *

The first thing Marinette did when she stumbled into her condo was kick off her flats. The second thing Marinette did was make her way into her bedroom and belly flop onto her bed. 

The landing was hard despite the soft mattress but she didn’t mind the pain. Physical injury was no match for the storm that was brewing within her head and the rattling within her heart. 

It didn’t take long for Tikki to fly out from the little birdhouse the raven head kept on the shelf in the corner of her room.

The kwami hovered over her chosen’s head before planting a soft kiss to her crown. The bluenette tried humming out a thankyou along with a greeting, but the soreness in her throat distorted the sound, making it come out more groggy than she liked.

“You seem exhausted. How was the meeting?” 

At any given time, Marinette would have appreciated Tikki’s high-pitched concern but in that moment, she was utterly drained. 

Her muscles cried out in pain and the fatigue of walking around all day was weighing down on her. Not to mention the emotionally taxing memory of Adrien along with the heavy words Chloé had placed upon her head. 

Her thoughts were like a record player stuck on a screeching loop.

And so, without much thought, the raven head sighed into her sheets and lied through her teeth, “it was okay, I’m just tired.” 

Tikki hummed in response before flying out of the room. Marinette allowed the silence which followed to soak into her skin; settle within her every nerve. 

She let the steady sound of her breathing rock her within he imaginary arms her mind had conjured around her. It was a calming technique she had learned a couple years ago to cope with the stress that came along with starting her small business. 

Though now, her petite corner boutique was gaining more attention than she liked. 

It was here, while sinking into the soft mattress and silky sheets that Marinette realized her life was changing. 

The ‘normal’ she had struggled so hard to get used to was rapidly shifting. Everything was going at a faster pace and the much obvious awareness that it wouldn’t be too long before she would fall short in stride was terrifying.

It was all stirring deep within the barrel of her stomach and the feeling was sickening to say the least. She swallowed the unease building within her throat but it did little to help. 

Marinette could feel it. The sudden rise of this inexplicable, ominous feeling was becoming more and more distinguishable and she didn’t understand why. 

Rolling over onto her back, she fished out her phone from beneath the sheets. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as her thumb hovered over her contacts in hesitation. 

She didn’t know how long she stared at Alya’s name before hitting dial. 

The line rang once, twice, thrice. 

Her heart leapt to her throat, pulse quickening as she started to regret calling her at all. It wasn’t particularly late but Marinette knew Alya was probably spending quality time with Nino since the two hadn't been able to in a while. 

A pang of guilt shot through her heart when Alya picked up after the seventh ring. 

“Hey, gurl!” 

She didn’t understand why but her body froze. She tried to say something but the words wouldn’t come. Her throat felt closed up and a slight burning irritated her vocal chords. 

That’s when Marinette felt the wetness streaming down the sides of her cheeks. 

_God, I’m such a mess._

Her anxiety had a knack for pouncing at the least convenient time. Why was she being strangled by its crippling strain at this very moment? She had no idea.

Marinette figured she should at least try starting with ‘hello’ but something went wrong when she opened her mouth because out came a staggering, sharp, unanticipated rasp.

And just like that, she knew Alya picked it up. 

And Marinette felt like shit. 

“Oh blueberry...do you want me to come over?” 

Sucking in a breath, she tried to even out her voice as much as she could, “N-no, it’s okay! I’m fine!” 

Lie. 

“Are you sure?”

_No._

“Yes.” 

Lie.

“Besides, you need to make up for your ‘hot time’ with Nino,” she teased, surprised at how smoothly her words flowed out. 

There was a muffled chuckle before Alya spoke, “alright, if you say so...but call me, yeah? We can grab some coffee tomorrow and have a little girl time, okay?” 

The smile adorning her lips was so real and so very warm. This was why she loved Alya. Despite having plans herself, she never hesitated to be there when Marinette needed her- even if she tried playing it off. 

“Okay, it’s a date.” 

“Great! Love you berryboo, buh-bye!” 

And like that, the raven head hung up, pulling her phone away from her ear. Inhaling a deep breath, she let out all the pent up tension building within her as she slowly exhaled. 

Closing her eyes, she laid there in content. Crossing her ankles and resting her palms on her chest, she debated whether to tell Alya what she had told Chloé. 

If Alya ever found out she was keeping something like this from her AND hadn’t told her first, she knew the girl would throw a fit. 

But in all honesty, Marinette wasn’t sure if she wanted to get into the mess that was 'Adrien-I-have-a-stick-up-my-ass-Agreste' with Alya.

The nauseous feeling returned and she wondered if this slight trepidation was due to the current dilemma on her hands. Regardless, she hoped it would stop suffocating her and eventually perish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading💕


	12. Miss En Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thursday! 
> 
> I hope you like this chapter xD

_‘Foolish? Distractions?’_

Adrien’s pulse quickened as he clenched his resting fist upon the office table. 

_‘You know what’s really foolish? IVAN INVITING YOU!’_

His chest tightened with every breath, blood thundering about his veins. 

“Mister Agreste?” 

His eyes were set on the dark surface of the large, ebony-wooden tabletop as that lethal voice within his head whirled out of control. 

_‘YOU’RE SUCH AN ASS.’_

“Mister Agreste!” 

Emerald eyes snapped up to meet the familiar face of his PA. Though, at the moment, her usually calm, ginger brows were creased in what seemed like a mix of worry and frustration. Her soft, ashen lips were pulled into a taut line as her moonlit eyes carefully observed him.

After about a beat of silent evaluation, the woman finally put down her tablet onto the table. Planting both her snowy hands on her hips, she tilted her head, the action causing a section of her wild, vermilion curls to bounce gracefully over her shoulder. 

“You’re really out of it today,” leaning forward, she took her time bending over the table, her one hand landing on its smooth surface for support as the other went to touch the blonde’s forehead. “Are you ill?” 

Sighing through his nose, Adrien brushed her palm away, sitting up straighter in his leather chair. 

“I’m fine, Claudia.” 

He felt her grey eyes observing him. 

“Did you not sleep well last night, sir?”

With a quick wave of his hand, he dismissed her question, “continue with what you were saying.” 

She eyed him for a moment before picking up where she had left off, “the employees are still waiting to be greenlit at the office. They need you to come in and let the regional manager know where the staff is to work and finalize the new setting.” 

Massaging his temples, Adrien shut his eyes. He didn’t know why Marinette’s cold words kept him from focusing. It wasn't like he cared about her opinion anyway. 

_’Like your dad.’_

His blood roared, igniting itself aflame. He was not like his father. He was not. 

His father was a vermin. A weak, old man who, now thanks to his newfound discovery, was also a coward who enjoyed creating monsters to do his dirty work while he hid in the shadows. 

His father was a failure. 

He was cold.

He was harsh. 

Adrien was not.

_'Like. Your. Dad.’_

Yet, the more he denied it, the more those three little words struck him over and over. It was getting annoying; as if his mind was a broken record set on a loop. 

By now, it was obvious.

There was no way he could function like this. It wasn’t that her words bothered him- though they somewhat did- what irked Adrien the most was that Marinette thought of him as his- as-

As-

Groaning, he ran a hand through his kempt locks, loosening them from their gelled bind. 

“Do I need to sign paperwork?” he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Claudia observed him with a furrowing gaze before shaking her head. 

“Great, then you go.” 

She blinked.

“I’m-I’m sorry, what?” 

“If I’m not needed to sign anything, why should I waste my time organizing an office when I could be answering emails and continue preparing for the upcoming briefing?” 

Spinning in his chair, he turned to face the large monitor. Pulling up his email, he waved her off as his eyes scanned the long list of unread messages in his inbox. 

As he began reading the first email, his peripheral vision caught sight of her lingering. 

She was just standing there, doing nothing. Needless to say, it annoyed him.

“What is it,” he let out curtly. 

“What if something comes up and they need you in person?” 

“So? You have my number. Call me if something does.” 

There was a slight pause before he heard her take a deep breath followed by a heavy, drawn out sigh. 

The sound of her heels clicking their way around his large table only caused a tremor to rock his nerves. What was she doing? 

Suddenly, his chair was being swiveled the other way around. Too stunned to do anything, Adrien took hold of both the chair’s leather arms as his balance nearly gave out. 

His furrowed eyes turned up to collide into a sea of mercury. 

“And what about you?” she hummed.

Steadily leaning in, her milky hands easily placed themselves upon his tense shoulders, “what if you need something, sir?” 

The way her lips curled into a knowing grin irritated him beyond compare. Softly huffing, Adrien evidently removed her hands. 

“You getting this small task done is the only thing I need,” he chewed out tersely. 

Reclining, Claudia stood upright, hands falling to her side. 

“Alright,” back tracking, her fingers skimmed along the smooth tabletop as she kept his scowling gaze, “but,” she stopped at the end of the table, “if you change your mind and need anything…”

It took everything in his power to keep from rolling his eyes at her prolonged leave. 

“...documents, an aspirin…” her hands gently picked up her tablet as she continued, “another...itch you need scratched,” she lowered her voice, pausing for a beat. 

This time, he did roll his eyes and to his surprise, it caused her to let out a soft chortle. 

“I’m only a call away. I’ll see you as soon as I’m done, mister Agreste.” 

And with that, the bold ginger finally left Adrien alone in his home office with nothing but his accompanying thoughts. 

Thoughts that slowly took the voice of none other than-

* * *

“Marinette!” 

Bluebell eyes turned their entranced gaze away from the strapless summer dress to set upon her best friend. 

“Look! These ones have ladybugs on them!” Alya squawked, holding up a pair of white socks. 

The gesture only caused the bluenette to roll her eyes as she shook her head, trying to quell an onslaught of giggles. 

“They’re coming for your brand, girl. Time to take out the guns.” 

“Whoa Al, slow down,” the raven head chuckled, her throat straining from stifling her laughter over the ombre’s ridiculousness. 

“I told you! You should have trademarked ladybugs if all your designs have somewhat of their elements incorporated into them. Imagine all the lawsuits!”

By now, there were a couple heads turning their way and Marinette felt a pang of sorriness for all the other _normal_ customers. 

“Ooookay, let’s leave before they kick us out.” 

Taking her caramel arm, Marinette steered Alya out of the store they had decided to check out. She especially averted her gaze from the clerk who shot them a particularly annoyed glare as they exited. 

She didn’t blame the poor woman. The two of them had ventured into the store to try on some clothes but after a couple of minutes, they had ended up goofing around and critiquing all the cute, potential outfits they could create with everything put on display. 

In other words, they had caused more of a rukus than actually purchase any of the items.

Sometimes Marinette found it hard to believe she was turning 25 soon. 

A cold and uneasy shiver thrilled down her spine upon the thought. Aging still stressed her out, despite it coming naturally to every living being who walked the planet. She figured her mother must have dropped her on her head as a child because unlike everyone else, Marinette usually spent every morning of her birthday week crying at the thought of getting older. 

“I still can’t believe you’re getting an office in the Paris Towers!” 

The raven head nearly tripped on her own two feet upon the reminder. 

“I don’t know yet, Alya. Maybe.” 

This caused the ombre to frown. The two were making their way to the escalators. Alya waited until they got on before turning to her friend. 

“You say that, girl but we both know you’ll end up moving,” she shrugged with a flip of her hair. 

Marinette watched as the food court came into view in all its glory, her eyes squinting to focus on the smoothie bar located on its far side. 

“We’ll see.” 

As they touched down on the glossy floor reflecting fluorescent lights, Alya cocked a brow. 

“Want to bet on it?” she cooed, her mouth turning up a corner in a sly grin.

Smiling, the raven head teased the brunette back with a sardonic, sing-song, “no.”

“Dang.” 

As the two made their way through the bustling crowd, Marinette found the same, unsettling feeling she’d felt last night return. It took its time creeping its way up her spine. Trying to keep her breathing even and her shudders light, her body naturally gravitated closer to Alya. 

There was a slight hint of trepidation running within her blood, but she mainly felt as if she was forgetting something. Something very important. 

As they came in close distance to the smoothie bar, Alya voiced a question on a whim. Though, she had never expected her best friend to react the way she did. 

“So, how’s the dress coming along? Did you get everything you needed?”

Marinette halted in her tracks, her heart stalling before plummeting to her stomach at the speed of light. The dress. The silk she needed for the dress. 

THAT’S what she was forgetting. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed, feeling the blood draining from her veins. 

“What?” Alya asked, confused as to why they had stopped. 

Bluebell eyes glittering with anxiousness lifted to set upon a pair of golden ones. 

“Alya. We need to go to Jessie’s. Now.” 

* * *

“Hey Plagg?” 

A dark, bulbous head popped up from beneath a pile of cubed camembert.

“Yeah?” 

“Do you think I’m an ass?” 

The kwami observed his chosen with set brows. Adrien was leaning back into his office chair with his arms crossed behind his head. It was a rare sight, which is exactly why Plagg took his time answering. 

“Kind of, yeah.”

Emerald eyes snapped from the high ceiling to set on the small creature eyeing him from the other side of his office.

Silence fell between chosen and kwami as the two simply held each other’s gaze. After about a minute, Plagg climbed out of the pile of cheese, hovering above it.

“How so?” Adrien questioned upon seeing him move.

Floating on his back in no particular direction, plagg closed his eyes, crossing his own nib ended arms behind his head. 

“You almost always forget to restock my camembert on fridays,” he cracked open a lid to check Adrien’s reaction. 

When he saw those golden brows going taut in an annoyed frown, he snickered before continuing, “that and you never take me anywhere with you anymore.”

"Ha. You know exactly why you lost your traveling privileges," Adrien huffed, stifling his chuckle with a soft tut.

Plagg rolled his eyes, "for the last time, it was a jOke. I didn't know you'd come LOOK for me at that stupid spa!" 

"That's not what I'm talking about."

Sighing, the kwami dramatically put an arm over his forehead, "Fiiiine, I know I shouldn't have flown out of your pocket in public-" zipping close to his chosen, he opened his arms in argument, "but there was literally nobody there!"

"Yeah well, you should have thought twice before pulling a stunt like that. Besides, I thought you hated going out."

Throwing the blonde a deadpan, Plagg crossed his arms before turning his nose up, "occasionally, I like to get some fresh air."

"Should have thought about that before flying out of my pocket."

And with that, the blonde turned, swiveling his chair to face his large monitor once again. 

Plagg watched as Adrien continued at his keyboard, lost in work once more. His dark, cat ears flattened against his head as a soft scowl took his petite features.

"See? This is you being an ass." 

Adrien's fingers paused, his eyes never leaving his screen. After a moment, the blonde turned to face the kwami yet again.

Cocking a brow, he was about to launch an argument in his defense when the door to his office suddenly flung open. 

The kwami immediately phased through the tall bookshelf to his left, zipping out of sight.

Adrien's skin jumped upon the sudden sound, his eyes furrowing as they flew to his doorway.

A set of doe eyes stared at him with anxiousness swimming in their silver glint.

"How many times do I have to remind you to knock?" He stated slowly, his voice low.

Claudia smoothed a hand down her snug, navy sheath dress. Her grey eyes observed her boss, her pulse slowly leveling.

“...my apologies. I...thought I heard someone in here with you.” 

Facepalming, Adrien massaged the ridge of his brows as he took a deep, irritated breath.

“Then that’s all the more reason for you to knock, Claudia.” 

Blinking, she tucked a winding section of radiant redish-orange hair behind her ear. Her eyes surveyed the room before landing on a meadow of emerald green.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought...ah, never mind. I apologize. It won’t happen again, sir.”

The blonde sighed heavily, his shoulders drooping as his hand went to scratch his head. By now, his kempt locks were tousled and wild. 

“It’s alright- I’m heading up to my room. Get me a glass of water,” getting up from his chair, he felt the world around him tip as his blood rushed down from his head. 

Shuffling towards his assistant, he paused just as he made it to the door. 

“I’ll take that aspirin after all,” he said over his shoulder as he walked out, his body just barely brushing hers. 

“Of course, mister Agreste!” 

He tried hard to refrain from shaking his head at the sound of her beaming. 

“Oh and Claudia?” he halted in his tracks, pivoting to face her. 

“Yes?”

“Never do that again. And cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day, I need a break.” 

He regretted the words as he caught her lips curve into a small smile in time with her mercury eyes going half lidded. 

He already knew what she'd say before she even opened her mouth. 

“Do you need...any help with that, sir?” she purred, her hands innocently clasping together over her thighs. 

Turning around, Adrien rolled his eyes. 

_”I’m not drunk, Claudia.”_

Is what he wanted to say.

“No. I’d like to be left alone, if you don’t mind.” 

Is what came out of his mouth.

Padding down the hall, he made his way to the grand foyer. 

Today was just spiraling out of control, wasn’t it? The only thing on his schedule he'd been able to complete was looking through his email and writing out a rough draft of his next briefing. 

He needed a drink.

Plagg was right. He did have to restock his Italian Moscoto. Never again was he drinking anything that could easily make him intoxicated. 

At least, not with Claudia around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how everything is falling into place >:3
> 
> See you Sunday! Thank you for reading💕


	13. Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) sorry for the lack of updates
> 
> 2) a lot happens this chapter
> 
> 3) half way through the chapter, the POVs switch during the SAME time sequence. I have highlighted where this happens! 
> 
> Enjoy!

“What do you _mean_ you’re out of stock?!” 

Marinette narrowed her panicked gaze on the lanky boy standing on the other side of the glass-top counter. Her hands were pressed on its surface as she leaned her body over. 

“I’m sorry, Marinette-”

“-did you check the back???” 

The dark haired lad sighed. 

“Twice.” 

This was where Marinette lost her shit. 

Her chest constricted as her breathing became more shallow and swift. Her palms grew warm and clammy as little, wild strands came undone from her low ponytail which was already on the verge of falling apart. 

“Come ON, Ian, you’re killing me here!” she whined while drumming her fingers in an irritated manner atop the glass. 

Alya observed the tragic scene unfolding before her, worried more about the poor teen than her best friend. 

Taking a small step forward, the ombre cleared her throat, “are you sure you can’t use white, gi-” 

“-NO,” Marinette cut her off, bluebell eyes never leaving the panicked set of chocolate browns before her. 

There was a moment of silence where everyone held their breath, all for different reasons. 

Alya, for not wanting to be chewed down by rabid Marinette. Marinette, for not believing the one colour she needed was completely out of stock. And Ian, for not wanting to be shredded apart by his aunt’s favourite customer. 

It took great effort but the brown-eyed boy was finally able to bat the words from his throat.

“I...I’m sorry Marinette but...silk was on sale this week and we only carry uncommon colours in minimal stock. The last of the off whites were sold earlier today.” 

“Can’t you order some more?” Alya spoke up from behind, head tilting in curiosity. 

Bluebell eyes gleamed before him, a plea glimmering within their blue flame. She carefully took note of the way Ian thinned his lips. 

“That’s the issue. I could place an order right now but it won’t get here in time,” placing his hands on the counter, he squared his shoulders as his usual confidence returned, “you said you need the fabric _before_ Friday, correct?”

“Friday works too!” the raven head blurt in desperation.

Her hands were now clenched into fists and it took everything within Marinette to not break down into a full blown anxiety attack right then and there. How lost had she gotten over the past two days that she had completely forgotten to get the one thing she dreadfully needed?

With a forlorn smile, Ian shook his head, his thick, wild, ebon curls bobbing to the movement. 

“That’s the thing- the suppliers who give us all our tone colours like grey, black and variations of white, aren’t located in France. They’re from a company in Canada and shipping takes four to five business days.” 

_Thump._

Marinette’s heart stalled before plummeting to her stomach.

“The earliest I can get the fabric to you is Sunday afternoon.”

Her throat closed as her lungs let go of the little air they held. 

Her eyes welled up to the brim as her body lost all feeling. She couldn’t move, couldn’t blink, couldn’t breathe. 

“I’m so sorry, Marinette,” Ian let out softly, his brown eyes glittering with sympathy. 

The words went over her head as her blood slowed, growing cold. Sorry wasn’t going to produce the silk she needed from thin air. Sorry wasn’t going to fix her mistake. 

This was her fault. 

_Your fault._

The sinister voice from yesterday afternoon returned, weighing down on her by the ton. 

What was she going to do? How was she going to finish the dress? What-

She swallowed, nearly choking. 

What was she going to tell Mylène?

Turning numbly on her heel, she was barely able to let out the faint “it’s okay” over her shoulder as she shuffled towards the exit.

It wasn’t long before she felt Alya’s hand support her lower back, leading her out the door. Marinette appreciated the silence the ombre allowed to wash over them.

As the afternoon sun greeted the two with sizzling heat, a million thoughts raced through Marinette's head. 

The most prominent of them all: where else in Paris could she find three yards of off white silk at a reasonable rate? 

She had checked every fabric store in town and none matched the exact shade of white she was looking for as Jessie’s had. 

To think her luck would turn out so rotten. A part of her mused if things would have played out differently had Tikki been with her. Shaking her head, she continued to let Alya lead her down the street. 

There was no way she was taking her kwami anywhere with her- not after the way she had so easily ventured off at the spa. 

“Hey,” lifting her head upon hearing the voice, her eyes met Alay’s soft gaze, “why don’t we go check out your possible new office? Maybe it’ll help you relax and we could figure something out?”

Stifling the heavy sigh that had clambered from her lungs was beyond difficult. She understood why Alya wanted to help take her mind off things, but going back to Paris Towers didn’t really sit well in her stomach. 

Not to mention if word of her visit got around, there was no telling what Faucher would assume-

Her feet came to an abrupt stop as a lightbulb went off in her head. 

“What is it?” she heard Alya’s confusion but even that didn't register with her.

Bluebell eyes fell to her petite purse.

Drawing a small breath, her hands carefully pulled out her phone. Her pulse quickened and she found her fingers slightly tremble as they typed out a text. 

“Who are you texting?” 

Marinette remained quiet as she finished the message. Her thumb hovered over the send button, her pulse racing faster with every breath. 

Dull eyes stared at the words with a sense of hesitance before her teeth found her bottom lip, and her skin made contact with her screen. 

It was done. 

And the fact that there was no going back, no undoing it, made Marinette question if she had made the right decision. 

“Mari?” 

Locking her phone, she skated her gaze up to see Alya cocking a brow. 

Glancing at her dark screen, she answered with an insouciant shrug, “no one special.”

* * *

His screen lit up for the fifth time in the span of five minutes, though, he was used to it. 

What he wasn’t used to was getting a text on his _personal_ device. 

Despite his curiosity, he knew he couldn’t risk to waver his focus. With his rival brand now sitting on the floor above, he had to give his one hundred percent during work hours and no less. 

And so, without a second glance, his hands continued across his keyboard while the single text remained on display. 

  
**3:47 pm**

Unknown

_Hello monsieur Blanc, it’s me, Marinette! I have a small favor to ask. I know you told me to contact you if I needed anything. I was wondering if you knew any fabric suppliers that sell off white silk who I can get in contact with. Please let me know whenever you find the time, thank you._

* * *

- **switching POVs begins here** -

* * *

This time, there was a knock on his door and Adrien appreciated the gesture.

“Enter,” he sighed, spinning in the office chair situated in the small study in the corner of his room. 

He had given up on rest and had decided to skim through emails while Plagg flipped through the many channels on his large LED on the opposite side of his nook. Though it was a bit annoying, the constant buzzing served as great background noise.

As soon as the door creaked open, the sound of shifting channels came to a halt along with the soft sound of his remote bring dropped on his bed a few feet behind him. 

Though his back was to Plagg, he knew the kwami had gone to hide, leaving 'Paris Today' running on his T.V.

Looking back, it was rather ironic that out of all the channels, it was the news Plagg had left broadcasting; as if the universe had purposely planned it that way. 

The familiar click clacks of his assistant’s heels echoed over the reporter's voice on screen. It was only when Adrien lifted his stultified gaze from his hardwood floor that his senses awoke. 

His heart stammered before going double time.

There, in her hands was a large tablet. He would have been completely fine with the fact- that is, if his father’s dark, glaucous eyes weren’t staring back at him. 

* * *

Alya observed her friend for a moment, slightly frowning at her nonchalant reply. 

_No one special, huh?_

“Okay then,” the ombre shrugged. 

They stood there for about another minute before the brunette broke the silence, “soooo...want to go check out your office or?” 

Blinking out of her thoughts, Marinette jerked her head upright. Shooting her friend a sheepish smile, the raven head slipped her phone back into her purse.

“Nah, let’s just go to Barb’s. I’m craving some lemonade.” 

Golden eyes squinted behind a set of glasses before quipping, “didn’t you already have some yesterday?” 

Turning on her heels, Marinette hooked her arm with Alya’s before marching onwards. 

“Well, my dear sage grandma, the saying is afterall, when life gives you lemons, make-”

“-lemonade,” Alya rolled her eyes, mentally facepalming at her friend’s antics. 

“Exactly.” 

* * *

Adrien felt himself freeze. What he hated was the fact that he didn’t know _why_. 

He had gotten over his father’s intimidating presence _years_ ago. 

Yet, even though his sockets had sunk deep into his paling face. Even with those dark circles claiming ownership beneath his dull eyes. Even with his silver strands turning white at the roots, Gabriel still held himself together with a sturdy spine. 

The aging man looked weak. But that didn’t stop creases from darkening his features. Creases Adrien knew well, weren’t wrinkles. 

For he had seen these creases all throughout his youth. They were the ones set right above his brows and along the sides of the corners of his mouth. 

The look of disappointment and silent rage.

* * *

As they neared the coffee shop, Marinette allowed her eyes to roam the busy street. There were a few cars parked on the curb with others drifting along in light traffic. 

Many people were out enjoying the warm weather. It felt nice. 

For once, she let herself breathe. Her lungs expanded to their fullest; the long intake of air being refreshing. 

In that moment, Marinette permitted her shoulders to slack. Paris had never looked better. 

It was only when Alya pointed to the ever familiar patio that she noticed her; a tall, slender woman as pale as snow lowering herself to crouch before something on the opposite side of the street. 

Though she wanted to dismiss the sight, something about the strange woman's plum gown stood out to her. The fabric fell to just below her knees in an empire design. Her hair was twisted in large ringlets matching her dress, reflecting the sun in a glossy, white sheen. 

Something about her fashionable look had caught the bluenette's designer eyes, for this sudden urge to approach the woman and ask her exactly where she had bought such a stunning outfit filled her every nerve.

Though, theoretically speaking, Marinette should have known better. 

Afterall, she _was_ up to date with every fashion catalogue and not once had she ever spotted such a design.

* * *

As the unspoken standoff between father and son continued, it was Gabriel who broke the silence. 

“How are things.” 

Curt and tonless. The usual. 

Leaning forward in his chair, emerald eyes briefly glanced at Claudia before locking with a pair of icy blues. 

“Good. I ended up doing some business here to help with expansion.” 

If Gabriel felt anything, Adrien couldn’t tell. His father’s face remained as stone cold and stoic as ever.

“You’ve got everything prepared for the briefing then?”

“Yes.” 

There was a slight pause. Adrien did his best to keep his head leveled. He was tired of submitting to his father's piercing gaze.

“Good, good. Did you...do what I asked you to do?” 

Adrien’s back went stiff as he straightened in his chair. His lips drew a line as all signs of emotion flooded from his face. 

“Yes, father.” 

* * *

Bluebell eyes squinted as Marinette’s feet suddenly came to a slow stop. 

It seemed as the woman was reaching into a small handbag. 

Again, the bluenette knew it shouldn't concern her, yet she couldn’t seem to tear away her curious gaze.

“What is she doing?” Marinette mumbled more to herself, slowly tilting her head.

* * *

Gabriel’s jaw visibly set as something within his eyes resolved. 

Adrien didn’t understand what it was. Despite the fact, his skin crawled with ants as he steadily kept his father’s narrowing gaze. 

“Did you make sure to do it promptly?” Gabriel let out in a cool, low tone.

Adrien's hands clutched the soft cotton of his sweatpants as he furrowed his brows.

“Yes, I made sure to stow the briefcase just as you instructed.”

His father’s eyes darkened with a knowing glint. 

* * *

Marinette watched as the woman pulled what looked like a handful of seeds and glitter from her bag. 

At first, she was confused.

But then, the woman shifted and the bluenette was able to catch sight of her eyes.

* * *

Adrien patiently waited for his father to dismiss him. 

He didn’t. 

Instead, Gabriel’s voice took on a tone the blonde rarely ever heard. One which gave the aging man's voice texture and held a sense of commiseration.

“Don’t lie to me, son. Did you open the briefcase.” 

It wasn’t a question. 

Because it was spoken like an accusation. 

But Adrien answered it regardless. 

* * *

“ALYA. RUN!”

Marinette found her herself screaming the words with a straining throat before she could even comprehend. 

Call it reflex or gut instinct.

* * *

Lifting his head ever so slightly, Adrien replied as calm as ever.

“No. I didn't."

* * *

As the tall, slender woman blew the glittering dust out of her palm, Marinette dove for the ground. 

For the moment the seeds within the woman's hand made contact with concrete, they blew up in a polyphonic explosion of red and purple.

The violent blast caused a shockwave to rock the entire block, giving rise to nothing but a cloud of smoke and soot. 

* * *

Gabriel eyed his son for a moment before parting with the words, “very well, then.”

And with that, the screen went dark.

It was just when Adrien sighed in relief that he felt it.

A sudden but soft quake shaking his house. 

The slight tremor caused his chandelier to gently sway, its crystals tinkling together.

What was previously light chatter on 'Paris Today' quickly turned into breaking news. 

His gaze dropped from the chandelier to Claudia as he heard her gasp. Her eyes were glued to the T.V. in horror.

Turning around, the headline he spotted caused his stomach to drop. 

An alleged bomb had gone off five blocks from his house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, it begins.
> 
> The last chapter to this arc (technically it's the second but here I'm counting it as the first) is coming out this Sunday!


	14. Phoenix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday (kinda Monday)
> 
> I'm so sorry for the late update!

Pain.

That's all Marinette felt.

Sinking within her bones, searing through her flesh, pain was all that consumed her.

With a slowing pulse, her eyes cracked open, letting in a flood of light.

Her ears rang as dust engulfed her vision. With aching muscles, she tried to push off the ground. 

The movement caused a sharp stinging to take her forearms and elbows. She figured the impact from the harsh fall had certainly scraped away her skin. Still, there was no sight of blood on the debris littered cement. 

She figured that was a good sign. 

Lifting her gaze, she grit her teeth as the stinging intensified. Despite her body screaming in disapproval, Marinette slowly rose from the ground to sit on her ankles. 

Coughing, her lungs struggled to take air. There was a thick layer of soot sweeping the floor. 

Her scratches pulsed in irritation and a definite throbbing took her limbs. 

As the winds picked up speed, the dust swirling in the air settled and the smog-filled cloud of red smoke finally cleared. 

The scene which greeted Marinette made her heart drop. 

The entire building across the street had collapsed. Cars were toppled or leveled like pancakes. The road had split in two, one side caving into the earth while the other stood at an angle, resembling a peak. Pipelines had burst. There was glass and rubble strewn everywhere. 

The place looked unrecognizable, inhabited and dead.

And it made her sick. 

Slapping a hand to her lips, she fought the urge to hurl the contents of her lunch right there on the sidewalk. Her eyes, quickly welling up, then snapped to her left and she felt her entire body lock before going numb. 

The cafe was gone. 

It had imploded; collapsed in on itself leaving nothing but a large, shallow crater. 

_Alya._

Lifting a shaking hand towards what remained of her favorite coffee shop, Marinette’s ears caught the sound of a sharp, jarring, feminine laugh. 

“No...no…” the blunette found herself whispering wide-eyed as a shudder frolicked down her spine. 

A crisp voice took the otherwise still air, booming to life, “my fellow citizens of Paris!” 

Swallowing, Marinette turned her attention towards the sound, her body now shivering uncontrollably as her eyes incredulously witnessed the woman standing tall atop a giant, purple flower with five pointed petals resembling a star. 

The plant struck a chord in her memory. She had seen it somewhere before. Though, as a matter of where, she couldn’t tell. Her mind had gone blank.

The woman’s eyes continued to glow in a radiant white as she carried on in a beat, “our planet is dying! There is too much concrete in our beloved city, keeping the potential mass of oxygen we could create. We need more flora now than ever.” 

Marinette felt herself unable to tear away her gaze. 

“I’m dreaming…” she whimpered softly as her breathing grew rugged and quickened in speed. She felt as if she was suffocating; her lungs unable to get the right amount of air. 

“I shall be your saviour, Paris! Bow before your queen,” the woman shouted, raising closed fists filled with more seeds and golden glitter. 

“This isn’t real,” Marinette rasped, tears stinging her eyes as her nails dug into her skin, desperately trying to wake herself.

“Have some belladonna,” the woman let out sweetly, a wicked smile taking her lips before she unclenched her hands and blew the glitter away. 

Bluebell eyes followed the seeds as they sailed through the air before falling into the cracks in the road. 

She didn’t know what it was, but something within her snapped and the raven head found herself breaking free from her paralysed state and scrambling for cover. 

A loud boom echoed in the air as a row of the same, giant, purple flowers sprung from the concrete, tearing and tossing anything in their way. 

Paris was slowly turning into an enormous garden.

* * *

As his eyes saw the story unfolding on the screen before him, Adrien’s back went stiff. Sources were claiming there were alleged sightings of large, deadly nightshades sprouting from the scene where the bomb had went off. 

His hands clenched into fists. 

“Claudia,” he let out in a low manner. 

“Y-yes?” 

It seemed she was far more shaken by the news than he was. Adrien wasn’t surprised. 

“Where did my father call from?” 

“I...what do you mean, sir?” 

Letting out a slow, measured breath, he willed his shaking fists to remain still.

With his back still turned to her, he elaborated, “is he in Paris?” 

“No, he’s still in London...why?” 

With his jaw set, emerald eyes narrowed on the live footage beginning to broadcast. 

By the look of that red smoke, he knew one thing for sure. The fine tingling on his nape was proof.

This was no ordinary attack.

* * *

Her breath was heavy, rugged and straining for the throat.

With aching muscles, Marinette drove her knees up, up, up as she sprinted through the destruction which was the city streets. Dodging large roots and scattered debris, her legs pumped to the rhythm of her swift pulse. 

She had gotten over her initial shock. At least, that’s what she forced herself to believe. The occasional surge of tears blurring her vision was proof she was living her worst nightmare. 

Yet even so, she didn’t slow down. 

She had to find a way home. 

Gritting her teeth, her lips sent a silent prayer that her kwami was awaiting her return. 

To think, after nearly seven years of silence, Gabriel Agreste would find motive to attack her beloved city once again. She didn’t understand. 

Why now? 

What made today special? 

Her breathing quickened and it wasn’t because she was sprinting. It was because reality finally struck Marinette on the head and it nearly caused the girl to trip on her own two feet.

 _She_ would have to stop this attack alone. 

Adrien Agreste wouldn’t be coming out to lend her a hand. 

_Is he in on this?_

A bolt of lightning cracked through her veins.

No. He wouldn’t. 

Right?

Shaking out the thought, she focused on covering as much distance as she could. Five more blocks. Just five more blocks and she could...transform. 

The thought left a weird tingling down her body. It had been so long...

With six years of being on the bench, she was hesitant about stepping onto the court once more. 

What if she couldn't swing like she used to? What if her body had forgotten how to land on two feet? What if she had lost her touch?

She had already screwed up by not taking precautions. 

Her heart hammered at the thought of Alya being buried under the rubble of the cafe. 

If only she had brought along Tikki…

Why had she stopped taking her kwami with her? 

Because never in a million years would she have guessed her former enemy to strike again. Not after growing quiet for over half a decade. 

Still, the fact Gabriel struck such a destructive attack with Adrien in the city seemed a little off- despite him doing just that years ago. She remembered the two hadn’t had the best relationship but she knew well Gabriel Agreste loved his son. In his own twisted way. 

After the passing of his wife and the whole ‘Emilie Agreste controversy’, Gabriel had sheltered Adrien more than ever.

She knew this because that’s when the akumas abruptly stopped.

It just didn’t make sense.

As her feet turned a sharp corner, her eyes caught sight of a flash of red. 

Another explosion went off in the distant, rippling its shockwave throughout its large radius. 

The slight tremor caused her balance to waver and she found her feet fumbling to stay grounded.

Well, at least now the raven head knew why she had felt such trepidation from the night before. It was as if deep down, a part of her knew this would happen. 

She just wished she had gotten a clearer forewarning. 

“Marinette!” 

The familiar squeak caused her head to whip in its direction. Darting towards her with lightning speed was her kwami. 

An incredulous, uneven sigh tumbled from between the folds of Marinette’s quivering lips. She had no idea how the hell Tikki had found her amidst the chaos but the sight of her little, red companion nearly made her knees buckle. 

“T-Tikki?” she let out numbly and nonplussed.

Her eyes began welling up as the tiny goddess flew into her hands. Giving the small creature a quick nestle against her cheek, Marinette slipped into the narrow alleyway between the two buildings to her right. 

“Wh-what are you- how did you find me??” 

Floating out of her hold, Tikki hovered near her chosen’s face. Her antennae were pointed in alert. 

“I heard a loud boom and was startled awake! Then, all your pencils began rolling off your desk and I knew something bad was happening,” the kwami started, motioning the actions with her tiny, nib ended hands, “I remember you said you were going to the mall. I just had this terrible feeling, Marinette. I snuck through the streets but everyone was too busy running away from something. That’s when I knew I had to find you.” 

Flying close to the tip of her nose, Tikki’s eyes widened in concern. “Are you okay? What happened? You’re not hurt, are you?” 

The bluenette opened her drying mouth to reply but the loud echo of another explosion caused her skin to jump. She wasn’t used to this; the noise. At least, not anymore. Marinette had grown accustomed to the quiet that had grown over the years.

Another boom rocked the ground causing the fine pebbles scattering the asphalt to quave. The raven head found herself backing against the brick wall, the harsh texture chafing her skin through the light material of her Tee. 

With trembling hands she clutched onto the roots of her hair, her ponytail now coming completely undone.

Her heart was hammering against her rib cage. A hurricane was taking form within her. She could feel the anxiety bubbling up her throat, cornering her. 

Screwing her eyes shut, she pulled hard on her flowing tresses, hoping the pain would snap her out of it. 

It didn’t. 

Instead, Marinette lost all feeling in her legs and fell to her knees. She felt nauseous and she couldn’t stop the shaking taking over her form. All her senses went into overload. Everything was too loud, too bright, too hot and too overwhelming. 

Her throat constricted and she tried to breathe. God, she tried to breathe.

Gasping desperately for air, Marinette felt the tears return, stinging her eyes as the world around her began to tilt. 

And then, like a saving grace amongst the chaos, she heard her name. 

It was spoken softly, enveloped in a gentle touch. 

“Marinette.” 

She felt something small and soft brush away her bangs and wipe her tears. A moment later, her kwami was nuzzling against her cheek. 

In that moment, Marinette let go of what little remained of her facade. 

The sobs that tumbled from her mouth one by one were heavy and hysteric.

With every heave, she found herself crumbling; losing control. 

Too much was going on and her brain couldn’t keep up. Everything was falling upon her shoulders. She was being forced out of her little comfort cave and shoved onto the battlefield.

Because simply put, if she didn’t fight this akuma, who would? 

She was being summoned but she wasn’t ready. What made her break down was the fact that deep down, she feared this very moment because she knew that stepping onto center stage after growing used to residing behind the curtains would be hard. 

And it was during these years of silence that she realized that maybe, she wouldn't ever be ready to go back to living a double life. And she didn’t think much of that fact either. 

Not until now. 

Her bones rattled in apprehension as the sounds of distant car alarms and screams grew louder.

“Marinette, please look at me.” 

She was hesitant at first, but eventually, fluttered her eyes open and set her bleary gaze upon her kwami. A look of worry swathed Tikki’s eyes and Marinette knew she looked like hell. 

God, she hated her anxiety. 

If she could make it stop, she would. She hated feeling like this; restless and trampled. 

“You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” 

Staring at her kwami, she tried to even out her breathing and focus on her words. 

“You can do this, Marinette. I know you’re scared but you don’t have to be! I’m here,” flying down to wrap her arms around her chosen’s finger, Tikki looked up into bluebell eyes with such sincerity, “I’m right here.”

The sight made the raven head’s heart stagger. 

“T-Tikki…” tears began welling up within her eyes, the salt now irritating them, “the akuma, I-I s-saw her and she-” a sob twisted its way up her throat, tumbling out in the most hideous manner. “The flowers and- the cafe, Tikki! I couldn’t I-I didn't know what to do, I- and Alya!” 

She was blabbering madness. She knew nothing coming out of her mouth was making sense. The confusion apparent in her kwami’s eyes was enough of a sign. 

“shh, shh, It’s alright,” Tikki tried soothing, gingerly stroking her chosen’s hand. 

“You can fix all of it.”

The speed at which Marinette violently shook her head nearly gave her whiplash. “No, no I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

“No, you don’t u-understand, I can’t.” 

Not alone. She couldn’t do it alone. 

It had been too long and the confidence she once held and proudly wore had faded over the years.

It was as if Tikki had read her mind. 

“You can and you will. You’re not alone. You have me.” 

Something about her wise tone struck a chord within her memory. Her master’s words rung within her head, jolting her nerves to life.

_‘Remember Marinette, you’re never alone, nor are you expected to carry out your duties on your own.’_

It was as if the universe had intervened in that very moment for her phone suddenly rang, blaring the first four lines of the second verse from the english song, ‘ bestie ’ by a young american rapper she couldn’t remember the name of. 

_🎶🎶🎶_ _Go best friend, that's my best friend! That's my main bitch, that's my fuckin’ best friend. If you got a problem then we got a problem. If she got a problem then you got a problem. Bitch!_ _🎶🎶🎶_

It was her ringtone for Alya. Correction- Alya had set said ringtone on her phone during the bachelorette weekend getaway. She was supposed to switch it back but never got around to it. 

Marinette let out a rugged sigh. She was so glad she hadn’t done that yet. 

Fumbling for her phone, she answered the call in an instant. 

“H-” her voice gave out. It sounded all mangled and raspy. 

Swallowing, she briefly cleared her throat before trying again, “Hello?”

“THANK THE LORD. Oh GOD Mari I have been trying to reach you for the past- I don’t even know how long! The reception here is shit. My phone is about to die- please tell me you’re okay, blueberry.”

The sound of her best friend’s voice nearly brought her to tears.

Alya was okay. 

She was living, breathing and okay.

She wasn’t unconscious beneath piles of rubble.

“I’m okay, Al! I just went to get some help.” 

“What? Where-” she heard the ombre sigh through the phone. “Alright. You had me so worried. I swear, girl, you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

Something about the words made her giggle and suddenly, the world didn’t seem so chaotic anymore. 

Looking down, her eyes found her kwami holding onto her finger. Smiling weakly, she gave Tikki a quick, loving stroke. 

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m okay. What about you? Are you still by the cafe?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I was lucky enough to dodge the hit. I'm just helping a few people out but...are you sure you’re okay?” 

This time, there was a slight tremor in Alya’s voice. 

Marinette replied sincerely, “a hundred percent.” 

There was a slight pause. 

“Okay…” Alya sighed heavily. “I just- I wouldn’t know what to do if something were to happen to you. I don’t think magical ladybugs are going to revert everything back to the way it was this time. I don’t even know how anyone's going to stop that akuma.” 

Fear. 

Marinette could hear it woven within the ombre’s words. 

Suddenly, she was all too aware of the weight of her earrings. 

And for once, Marinette didn’t feel her stomach tying into knots nor the usual anxiousness that came with it.

Resilience took her veins and she found her brows puckering with anger. Here she was, cowering within an alley while her best friend was already helping civilians. 

No, Marinette would not have it. 

Before she could reply, the line cut off. She figured Alya’s phone must have died. 

A set expression took her features. 

Tikki was right. She wasn’t alone. Master Fu was right. She didn’t have to do this alone.

_‘You have the box, you have allies.’_

A slight pull at her finger had her gaze flicking downward to set upon her kwami. 

“Marinette,” Tikki started with a perseverate tone, “just say the words, spots on.”

Déjà vu.

With a small yet firm nod, the bluenette set her gaze upon the opening of the alley way.

“Alright. But, before we head towards the akuma-,” her eyes snapped back to her kwami, “-we’re going to make a little pit stop.” 

With adrenaline buzzing through her blood, Marinette was ready to face reality. 

Taking a deep breath, the raven head slowly rose from the ground like a phoenix rising from its ashes.

And with three simple words; words her tongue was so used to in her youth but hadn’t uttered in years, she felt herself engulf in flames.

“Tikki, Spots on!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATIWY will be returning in late-ish May! Updates will be on Sundays only! 
> 
> The stage is set, my pawns are in place, the match has been lit. 
> 
> It's time to unravel this slow burn >:)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving comments! I'll see you in May!💕


	15. Ashes, Answers, Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp.
> 
> I've made you wait long enough
> 
> Enjoy!

Golden eyes took in the ruinous plane which was the north end of Champs-Élysées.

A part of her heart sank upon the sight of the buildings surrounding her resolved to nothing but debris and steel frames. So much for being heaven on earth. Now, with ash and soot lining the bricks and concrete, the famous street looked more like hell. 

Her hands still held a faint tremble as the shock of the attack continued to linger within her bones. 

The occasional echoes of bombs within the distance traveled through the summer air like delicate whispers; reminding Alya and everyone else within Paris of the sleeping giant that had awoken. 

A giant which took the form of a frail butterfly with wine stained wings. 

The infamous creature that parasians thought had gone extinct.

Yet, as more clouds of red smoke stretched toward the sky along the horizon, the louder Alya’s mind screamed ‘Akuma.’

The faint sound of sirens grew louder with the passing of every minute, but the ombre couldn’t care less about the paramedics drawing near. She was lucky enough to land with a few bruises and minor cuts from the shards of shattered glass littering the rough terrain of what was once her favorite cafe.

Her mind was elsewhere. 

As her vision lazily skated across the leveled street, she found her grip tightening on her phone. 

Tearing her gaze from the wreckage, the image of her best friend unconscious and bleeding out charred itself behind her closed lids. Furrowing her brows, Alya violently shook her head. 

“No. No. She’s okay,” she reassured herself hotly, under her breath. 

The brunette was growing tired of her paranoia getting the best of her. 

She had contacted Marinette. She had spoken to her and had heard her voice. Her blueberry was fine. Sure, she sounded a bit shaken over the god-awful reception, but hell, who wasn’t? 

A fucking _Akuma_ was rampaging around Paris after years of blissful peace. 

Sighing, the ombre leaned against the steel frame of the building behind her. Tilting her head back, she was thankful for the sun. At least the weather wasn’t shit. 

Closing her eyes, Alya tried to focus on her breathing with her arms akimbo. And she would have stayed that way too, had her heightened senses hadn’t felt something rush past her. 

Cracking open a lid, she remained perfectly still, waiting. When she sensed no movement, she pushed herself off the steel pillar and stood taller. 

Her eyes traveled across the vicinity, taking their time to note the little details of her surroundings. The rest of the paramedics had arrived and were tending to the wounded across the street. The people who hadn’t suffered great injuries were still huddled in their little circle, bickering away. 

Nothing seemed off. 

Huh, she could have sworn she felt a presence near her just then. That, or maybe she really _was_ paranoid. Again.

It was only when her ears picked up the faintest sound of rummaging from behind her, that she abruptly turned her chin to her shoulder. As she slid a glance into what remained of the dark, demolished building behind her, her eyes caught something reflecting red, deep within its crevasse. 

With her heart skipping a beat, Alya slowly pivoted. Taking a small step into the shadowed entrance, her arms naturally folded tight across her chest. 

“Hello?” 

She waited, her pulse now hammering against her throat. 

Holding her breath, she strained her ears, listening for any movement. 

Nothing. 

Shuffling forward, her foot hit some sort of rock, causing it to skid across the rubble-strewn floor. Biting down on her tongue, the ombre reached for her curling toes, hissing through clenched teeth.

As her hands tried to soothe the throbbing, she realized this whole thing was stupid. There was nothing special here to see. She wondered why the hell she was getting so worked up over a small, meaningless sound. It was probably just some cement crumbling under the compression of the fallen structure. 

“Fucking rock,” she mumbled while straightening up. 

As her eyes made one last round of the place, they suddenly did a double take, coming to a screeching halt as they finally noticed the previous red glint.

Squinting behind her glasses, Alya realized the ‘rock’ she had so blindly kicked was actually a petit, wooden box. Something about its inapposite presence sparked her curiosity. Edging close, she was able to make out its distinct hexagonal build which, oddly enough, struck a strange sense of familiarity within her.

Her better judgement told her to turn back and return to the paramedics but there was some sort of inexplicable pull, gravitating her closer to the mysterious, wooden container. It was as if the box itself was calling out to her. Or maybe, it was her journalist instinct. 

It was only when her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and caught sight of the strange, red markings painted upon the lid of the wooden box that she realized what she was staring at. 

Her breath hitched as her mouth slightly hung open. Her muscles locked in place and she felt her heart leap to her throat. 

There, on the cracked floor before her was a box made for containing a miraculous.

The longer she stared at it, the more imagined it seemed.

_What the hell- why is this here? Did someone drop it? Does it even belong to anyone??_

And then, Alya felt her body go numb. 

_Is this...for me?_

* * *

“Shit.” 

The slur was whispered hotly from between his lips. 

“Shit, shit.” 

He scrolled through his email, his eyes scanning the long list in a panic. 

“Merd. Come on.”

Between business inquiries and pitches, finding that infamous email he was never to have seen within his Gmail's bookmarked section was like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

His TV was still left running in the back, serving mainly as background noise. The news story it had been broadcasting was turning into one of horror. There was an akuma wreaking havoc near the Eiffel tower. 

At first, the reporters themselves didn’t know what to call the phenomenon. It amused Adrien at how quickly Paris had forgotten its past. Then again, it _had_ been over half a decade. People forget and move on; it was normal. 

Adrien had. 

But all that seemed to change with the release of one, petite butterfly forcing back a surge of memories. Memories he thought he’d forgotten. Memories he _wished_ he’d forgotten.

He wasn't going to lie, he'd initially thought his father was behind the attack. The very moment he saw red in that smoke during the live broadcast, he _knew_.

Adrien hadn't known what to feel then.

At first, the initial shock had numbed him. Then, a mix of fear and anger began seeping into his veins and he had found himself trembling. 

But as the live footage had cut back to the reporters, he had quickly realized that the sudden quake he had felt, prior to the horrific headline, must have been from the first bomb the akuma had detonated. 

The same quake which took place right as he had hung up on his father. This meant the akuma must have been active before he had ended the call. There was also the fact that the old bastard was still in London as Claudia had confirmed. 

That begged the question; with Gabriel clearly away from Paris, how the hell was an akuma rampaging through the city streets?

It just didn't make sense.

Unless...Gabriel was no longer the owner of the butterfly miraculous.

And that's when Adrien's heart had stilled.

To his surprise, he had become his father's alibi; something he had never intended. It was here where Adrien found himself wishing that Gabriel _had_ been the one behind the attack. At least then, he could’ve gone right to the source and neutralized the threat for good. 

But nothing was ever that simple, was it? 

With his father now out of the picture, he’d wondered who could possibly be orchestrating the attack. 

And that’s when it had clicked. 

_M._

As his eyes made it to the end of his inbox, the grip on his mouse tightened. He couldn’t find it- the email. It was lost; or even worse, deleted.

“Fuck!” 

Throwing his hands in the air, Adrien stumbled back with shortened breath. 

“Whoa, there. Take it easy, kid.”

The small voice came from his left. He didn’t have to turn to see the look of worry plastered upon his kwami’s face. The lack of snotty sarcasm within Plagg’s surprisingly tender voice was a clear giveaway itself. 

Choosing to ignore the presence of his tiny companion, the blonde continued to stare at his monitor with virulent eyes. His ruffled locks twisted up in various directions, giving him a rugged look. Clenching his fists, he tried to even out his breathing.

The thing was, Adrien wasn’t stupid. 

He knew there was something iffy about the briefcase from the start. The briefcase Gabriel had instructed him to stow away as soon as he set foot in Paris. 

And well, when his father had called him to ask if he had tampered with the contents of the infamous consignment, Adrien was sure that whatever the hell that cracked, blue brooch he had found within the briefcase was, had great meaning. At least, to his father it did. 

However, it was only after the earth had rattled and an akuma suddenly came into existence, that Adrien truly understood what the email he was so desperate to find had meant. 

The email wasn’t blackmail. It was a threat. 

And by connecting the dots, Adrien quickly realized that the papers and documents filling the briefcase didn’t mean shit. They were a diversion. The ‘deal’ his father had agreed to was shipping this mysterious piece of broken jewelry. It was allegedly what this ‘M’ wanted. 

His eyes instinctively moved to set on the leather watch box he kept on his shelf. The box he was currently using to keep said piece of jewelry hidden.

By taking the brooch out of the briefcase, Adrien figured he had breached the deal. 

And now, Paris was paying for it. 

The only question that filled his head was _why_. What made that brooch so special? Why did ‘M’ even want it? 

He didn’t know. 

Hence why he had been sifting through the endless list that was his inbox. He figured the email might hold the answers he was seeking or at the very least, contain some clues. Which is why its inconvenient disappearance made him so irritated.

“Adrien.”

“WHAT,” the blonde snarled, jerking his head back around to meet his kwami’s eyes. 

Plagg’s mouth hung open by a crack, his pawed hand lifted in the air as if he was about to say something. However, his slitted irisis narrowed as a shadow befell his small features. With furrowed brows, the kwami pulled his lips into a thin line as his ears flattened against his bulbous head.

The sight made Adrien’s heart drop.

“I’m sorry,” the apology came in an instant, accompanied by widening, regretful eyes, “I didn’t mean to lash out, I just-”

The words died on his tongue as Plagg turned his back on his holder and began making his way over to the other side of the grand room.

Running a hand through his disheveled hair, Adrien sighed, “shit.”

Taking two long strides to catch up with his kwami’s leisurely pace, the blonde grimaced upon noticing Plagg's crossed arms. With his nose in the air, it was clear the little creature was anything but happy. 

“Plagg, come on. I said I was sorry.” 

His words went unnoticed, the ignorance causing a slight sting. 

“You know I didn’t mean it- I’m just frustrated.” 

Silence. 

It seemed no matter how much he pressed, the stubborn deity of destruction was bent on giving him the cold shoulder. This rarely ever happened considering how isolated Adrien usually kept himself, but when it did, the idea of his kwami actively ignoring him did not sit well in his stomach. 

He didn’t understand why that was. Maybe it had something to do with the neglect he had felt during his teen years but he doubted it. Adrien always told himself it was because Plagg turned into more of a diva than he already was and it was not amusing in the slightest. Regardless, it was time to bring out the big guns. 

Bending down to match Plagg’s hovering height, the blonde tilted his head ever so slightly. With a brief roll of the eyes, he pointed his gaze upon the kwami.

“Will you drop the act if I get you another wheel of camembert?”

Plagg’s ear twitched. 

“ _Two_?” Adrien bargained.

“Four,” the kwami finally gave in.

“Deal.” 

With a small pout and knitted brows, Plagg turned to face his chosen. Dark green clashed with emerald and a silent pass of words charged the air in the space between them. 

When Adrien refused to break away from his intense gaze, the kwami finally sighed, allowing his tense shoulders to relax and his arms to fall to his sides. 

“I was going to ask,” Plagg began dryly, his whiskers curling on the ends, “if you were going to do anything about that.”

With furrowed brows, a set of confused, emerald eyes followed the direction in which the kwami was pointing. When his gaze collided with the TV, Adrien was immediately transfixed with what he saw. 

There, on the live feed, an enormous deadly nightshade was erupting out of the ground on the opposite side of the city. 

Adrien’s eyes widened, unable to tear their horrified gaze from the screen. 

So far, the attack had only been centered near the Eiffel tower because that’s where the akuma currently was. The broadcast suddenly switched cameras to one which was present in the area where the last bomb had struck. 

The footage moved in all directions as if trying to spot something until the lense finally pinpointed and zoomed in on the akuma. 

It was a woman.

Her face was as pale as chalk. She had large, purple ringlets which waved in the slight, soot-filled breeze. But what caught Adrien’s attention and tightened the noose coiling around his throat was her expression. 

The akuma was stunned. Her glowing, white eyes were furrowing in confusion, as if trying to make sense of what they were witnessing. 

The camera switched again and this time, he understood why. 

There in the distance, the nightshade continued to grow taller, towering over all the other nightshades the akuma had created. Its seemingly unending ascend to the heavens was causing a concrete avalanche as the outskirts of the city were being ripped open and tossed about like confetti. 

The sight made Adrein’s stomach lurch. 

This nightshade was different. It was lethal. It was deadly. 

And it was all his fault. 

Swallowing thickly, the blonde numbly reached for the wall to find balance. As his eyes clung to the screen, his head grew lightheaded and all feeling slowly seeped from both his feet.

Yet somehow, despite all the chaos, Adrien found that his heart had begun beating furiously for an entirely different reason. Even with the overflowing amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins, he knew well that his guilt would kick in soon. 

_Thud, thud, thud._

And it was this very knowledge that made him dread what he secretly wished would be the inevitable. 

_Thud, thud, thud._

As if the universe had heard his musings, the camera from the live broadcast picked up the sound of a metallic string being unreeled. 

_Thud._

A sound that his ears were once so well versed with.

_Thud._

A flash of red zipped across the street, headed for the gigantic flower. 

_Thud._

It was in and out of frame within the blink of an eye. 

In an instant, the broadcast erupted with a slew of questions from bystanders on the scene. 

_“What was that??”_

_“Did you see that?”_

_“Did you catch it on camera?”_

_“What the hell was that thing?”_

Adrien knew exactly what _it_ was and the fact that _it_ had appeared made his bones rattle. Oh how he had wished to bury the memories from his youth years in Paris. And he had successfully done it too- for some time.

In all honesty, he should have known. 

He could only run from the past for so long. Prolong his denial for a limited time. Keep from confrontation for what was the equivalent to the bat of an eye within his life span. 

He should have known that sooner or later, he would have to face his fears, his demons, and the genesis of his guilt. 

_Her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow look at that 
> 
> The next chapter will be up (hopefully) this Sunday! Updates will be regular until they aren't ♡´･ᴗ･`♡


	16. Smoke And Mirrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! 
> 
> Enjoy

Hands were running down her dress, pulling and picking at the fabric until it was cinched to her waist. Chloé didn’t really mind fittings considering she had to get them done for her talk show. 

However, the jetlag was getting to her head and she found the world occasionally tipping from side to side. Needless to say, staying a day behind in Paris wasn’t turning out to be such a bright idea. 

If she had left for NewYork on schedule like she was supposed to and hadn’t spent the extra day swept away with Marinette (not that she was complaining), and waiting for a certain noir headed pop artist to text her, she wouldn’t be dreading standing in the center of her expansive hotel suite. 

It had come to the point where the strong scent of coffee nor its sugary taste could wake her mind. Chloé could feel bags forming beneath her eyes. With heavy, half open lids, the blonde tried to stand tall and keep still. 

The voices of her stylist and assistant gradually grew muffled. She was battling sleep and losing by the second as keeping balance became harder and harder the longer the fitting stretched on. 

“Miss Bourgeois, are you alright?”

Jerking her head upright, Chloé answered with a soft snort, “huh?”

Fluttering, blue eyes managed to focus on her stylist- what did her assistant call her again? It took a moment and great effort but she was able to retrieve a name for the face peering up at her with concern etched into its distinct latino features. 

_Oh yeah, Jane._

“I’m fine,” the blonde whispered while keeping a weak smile.

With a small but firm nod, Jane continued to fix the dress to the blonde’s torso. Once her waist was looking snatched, the stylist moved down to the satin gown, double checking the seams on the slit running down her right leg. 

It wasn’t long before the last of the alterations were pinched in place and her assistant, Monica, helped her into her robe. 

Raking her fingers through her scalp, the blonde was gathering her hair into a high, messy bun when her phone suddenly buzzed. With a groan, Chloé released her locks in a sluggish manner and glanced at her countertop.

The name displayed on her lockscreen made her heart leap to her throat.

Lu 🙊💓

_Hey :)_

Suppressing a squeal, the blonde lunged for her phone. Unlocking her device in a haste, she quickly navigated to the highlighted message. 

Her eyes found three dots bouncing at the bottom left corner of her screen and immediately, her pulse quickened.

  
**8:41 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_Sorry for the late reply, I was really busy ystrday :\_

She could feel her heart skipping to a rhythm within her throat as the dots reappeared, indicating him typing yet again. Chloé couldn’t keep the widening grin from her lips. 

It was happening; Luka was finally replying to her! Hell, he even apologized for getting back to her late. Points for being courteous.

As the dots continued to bounce, Chloé felt her heart swell with anticipation and fondness for the young man.

Her dream was slowly morphing into reality.

Until his next text shattered it whole.

  
**8:41 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_But I’m glad you’re not in Paris rn_

Her entire body went cold.

The smile so timidly laced upon her lips slowly came undone.

Blue eyes stared incredulously at her screen trying to make sense of what they were seeing as a crippling heaviness echoed throughout her entire form. 

It was just as she felt her hands starting to shake that the dots reappeared. Frowning, Chloé rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palm, making sure she wasn’t seeing things. Before she could blink twice, a new text popped up on her screen. 

  
**8:42 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_I wanted to catch up w you too but I'd rather u be safe in NY😅_

She sighed in relief, shoulders relaxing. He hadn't meant what she had thought.

Even though her heart fluttered upon finding that he had wanted to spend time with her, the feeling was short lived as her brows quickly puckered with confusion by the comment closing his text. 

_Safe? What’s he on about?_

Her fingers were flying across the screen before she could mull over his text. Without much thought, she had sent the terse reply and tucked her bottom lip between her incisors.

  
**8:42 am**

Me

Wdym??

The dots appeared as soon as the word ‘read’ did below her message. Something stirred within the pit of her stomach as the dots kept bouncing and pausing then bouncing again. He was taking longer than she liked. Was it because of her reply?

_Why did I send two question marks? I don’t even know him like that- ugh he must think I’m some assertive bitch. Way to ease in Chloé, bravo._

  
**8:43 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_You don’t know? It’s all over twitter_

She frowned. 

  
**8:43 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_Oh wait, I forgot about timezones 🤦‍♂️_

Lu 🙊💓

_It must be really early for u_

His texts kept coming as if he were paranoid. It was enough to get Chloé on the edge of her seat. 

But nothing could prepare her for what he sent next. 

  
**8:43 am**

Lu 🙊💓

_U won’t believe this but there’s an akuma here and it’s pretty much destroying the entire city.._

Blue eyes widened as the grip on her phone tightened. 

“Miss Bourgeois?” Monica called, but her voice went over the blonde’s head.

Chloé was too caught up by what she had just learned. Her heart slammed against her ribs as a shiver thrilled down her spine. The disbelief was enough to knock the breath out of her lungs; the idea of replying to Luka’s text long forgotten. 

Opening Twitter in a haste, she saw that #PrayForParis was trending number 5 world wide. 

_No._

Shaking fingers followed the hashtag. 

_Please, no._

What she was met with left her horrified. 

Pictures of demolished buildings, videos of red smoke, hundreds and thousands of tweets calling for aid. 

_Oh god..._

But what caught her eyes wasn’t the picture of the akumatized victim, but a short clip from a bystander near the Eiffel tower capturing a blur of red zipping through the city street. Despite the sound of sirens and cries filling the video, Chloé was able to make out the distinct sound of metal being reeled as red flew across the frame. 

Her heart stilled.

After replaying the clip more times than she could count, she finally broke her stunned silence. 

Looking up, Chloé's eyes met with Monica’s curious gaze and the blonde finally let it out. 

“WHAT THE-”

* * *

_“Fuck.”_

Pursed lips swore in a hushed whisper. 

Beads of sweat serpentined down tanned skin. With rugged breath, golden eyes kept their attentive gaze trained on the enormous plant tearing through the center of the empty street. The initial shock had long past but the adrenaline running through her veins was enough to keep her on her toes.

All Alya wanted to do in that moment was scream. 

Not because of how ridiculously insane this day continued to grow or because she was clad in indestructible, orange nylon. It was because she had to get this right. 

This tedious, almost impossible task.

A part of her was still bent on believing that the events following the cafe were fictitious. That everything she had witnessed wasn’t real but merely a part of one of her fever dreams. 

Ironic it was, that the weight of the pendant hanging from the golden, cable chain around her neck proved otherwise.

As she continued to pour every ounce of her concentration towards the illusion she had casted, the brunette tried to keep her rising body temperature in check. The heat of midday was unforgiving- especially in this side of town.

Even within her shadowed hiding spot, the sweat clinging to her chin was proof she was suffocating. It didn’t help that her super suit had changed either. Burgundy red fur now ran down the center of her orange, black tipped tail.

Of course, she wouldn't have minded the tweak if the same fur hadn't also grown around her neck, waist, wrists and ankles. Her feet and legs were wrapped in black, just until the midcalf. Her hands and forearms were also gloved in black, but the white from her suit had completely disappeared, leaving her body covered in bright orange. 

Her fox ears were gone as well- at least, that’s what she assumed. She couldn’t really feel them on her head. The only change she actually liked was her hair. Thankfully, it was styled into two, large dutch braids running down to her mid back. With her thick locks out of her face, she was able to get a clear visual.

The journalist had never understood the magic that came with the suits. The changes to her costume from when she was just a teen had caught her by surprise. Nevertheless, the brunette had rolled with it despite her slight discomfort.

Reaching for her flute, Alya crouched down until she was kneeling on her left leg. For a moment, all that accompanied her was the sound of her own breathing.

Her eyes never left the towering plant growing diagonal from the alley she was hidden in. She had been able to hold the illusory flower in place despite a pigeon crashing into its thick stem. It had taken great effort, but Alya had kept the mirage from turning into a puff of orange smoke.

_Come on LB. Where are you…_

Clenching her jaw, she willed the illusion to grow taller and taller. Easier said than done.

At first, she was skeptical of the idea of being able to manipulate and create multiple illusions without having to take breaks between transformations. Trixx had assured her that due to her age, she was capable of doing much more. She was stronger, wiser and her body could take the toll. 

All Alya had to do was concentrate. 

And so with narrowing eyes, she did just that. 

Was she shocked that Ladybug had sought out her help after all these years? No. 

Sure, it was jarring at first but Alya was more confused than surprised. Especially since the heroine had left the fox miraculous to be found rather than showing herself to give it to her in person. However, when Trixx informed Alya of Ladybug’s plan, the ombre’s confusion turned to curiosity. 

Why was it that Ladybug wanted her to stay hidden at all costs? She understood that the heroine didn’t want the fox miraculous to be exposed to the eyes of both the public and Hawkmoth but a small voice deep within the expanse of her mind told her that that wasn’t the whole truth. 

There was something more at play. Something she was missing. 

Of course, she would have to mull over the matter another time for suddenly, the sound of metal being reeled echoed in the distance and snapped the ombre out of her musings. 

It was time.

Taking a deep breath, Alya closed her eyes and willed her thoughts to settle. Placing the mouth of the flute just below her bottom lip, the vixen blew all air from her lungs into the instrument. She felt her pulse slowing as her mind conjured the illusion she wanted. 

Snapping her eyes open, she slowly rose from the pavement. Her arms held a slight tremble as she carefully took aim. Breath caught in her throat, she swung the flute, sending an orange ball of light the size of a firefly shooting towards her initial illusion. 

In an instant, the entire plant turned red, bearing large, black polka dots. 

_So far, so good._

Steadying herself, the ombre pointed the tail of the flute in the illusion’s direction. Her fingers tightened their grip around the instrument as she waited for Ladybug to carry out her plan.

With her pulse beating in her temples, Alya sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening that she would be able to do what the spotted heroine wanted. 

Because the truth was, Alya wasn’t sure if what she was about to do would work.

A faint tremble tickled her hands as soon as the wire from that ever familiar yo-yo wrapped around the base of the enormous flower, which now, resembled one of Ladybug’s lucky charms. She felt the illusion waver within her finger tips and for a brief moment, her heart misgave her. 

Channeling all her focus into keeping the flower from turning to orange smoke, she willed the nightshade to be cut from its stem and fall over. 

Holding her breath, a shiver frolicked down both her arms as Ladybug cut through the base of the stem and much to her surprise, Alya witnessed her illusion fall to the concrete and shrink to the size of a regular flower.

Although she was far away, she could make out Ladybug crouching down and placing what she guessed was the decoy lucky charm Trixx had told her about next to the illusion.

And just like that, it was over. 

“I did it,” Alya breathed.

Letting out a breathy laugh, the ombre tried to keep her eyes from welling. 

“Well screw me with a chainsaw, that actually worked,” she chuckled.

Finally allowing herself to relax, Alya relished in the feeling of sweet relief. For pulling something like that off- especially at that level of precision, she was surprised that her necklace hadn’t started its countdown. Maybe her kwami was right about the whole age thing after all.

“Trixx, fall back.” 

A surge of orange light enveloped her as she felt her suit dissipate from her body. Blinking away the little phosphenes scattering around her peripheral, she was able to put out her hands just in time to catch the little fox.

A pair of dashing violet eyes grinned up at her causing Alya to mirror the gesture.

“What did I tell ya, cub?” Trixx began, hovering above her holder’s palms, “you can do it if ya put yer mind to it.”

“You were right,” Alya chimed, her eyes following the kwami as it leisurely danced around her head and performed lazy flips in the air, “though I gotta ask, what was the deal with the new suit?” 

Pausing mid air, Trixx tilted her head and shrugged, “eh, beats me. The suits are always changed to what the holder deems fit. A part of you must believe you have matured- or maybe you just like fur, sugar.” 

Chuckling, Alya shook her head. Reaching for her nape to grab hold of the necklace, she realized she didn’t have any snacks on her. She figured Trixx must be famished, especially after using mirage twice. To her surprise, from the way the little fox was prancing around the air, it seemed the kwami wasn’t as tired as Alya had anticipated. 

It was just as her fingertips slipped beneath the chain that it happened. 

A thunderous quake shook the ground causing Alya to lose balance and fall flat on her tush on the alley floor. A sharp pain bolted through her spine as she hissed through clenched teeth. 

“You okay, sugar?” 

Rubbing her lower back, the ombre lifted her gaze and through squinting eyes, found Trixx hovering just before her face. 

“Yeah...is the akuma here _already_?” 

Holding out a tiny paw to her holder, Trixx smiled weakly, “I’m afraid so.”

Fixing her glasses before taking the kwami’s paw, Alya paused for a moment. This was bad. 

“How are we going to leave?” 

From the way the corners of Trixx’s mouth turned down, Alya knew they were trapped. The kwami’s answer only solidified her speculation. 

“We aren’t.” 

A heaviness sunk within her stomach. 

Blinking behind her glasses, the brunette looked past the little fox and tried to get a visual on the comotion occuring outside the alley. Maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe, just maybe she could create one last illusion to help Ladybug- just until Chat noir arrived. 

It was as if Trixx had read her thoughts for the kwami flew into the ombre’s line of sight. 

“Uh-uh, sugar. Just because we’re stuck here doesn’t mean we can dabble with the plan,” cocking a brow, the kwami crossed her tiny arms, “I can see it all over ya face, cub. Stick with what the Ladybug has ordered. Stay low, stay hidden and whateva ye do,” a sudden, dark shadow befell those violet eyes, “DON’T go out there.” 

Alya hadn’t realized she had been holding her breath until Trixx finished. 

“Okay…” she exhaled. 

Slowly getting to her feet, the ombre dusted off the back of her denim shorts and quietly stalked towards the opening of the alley. Crouching down so that she was hidden from immediate view, she settled into her spot. 

Her mind ran back to her phone. If only it wasn’t dead, the amount of views she could get from a battle like this would for sure gain her more attention in the journaling community. 

As she leaned forward, brows and jaw set, Alya sent out another silent prayer. Only this time, she prayed that her idol, the renowned heroine that Paris had loved and lost with time would be able to put this nightmare to an end. 

Because if she was going to stay hidden, there was no way she wasn’t going to witness history unfold before her eyes.

* * *

It had been nearly seven minutes since he had told him. 

Plagg observed his chosen with disquite eyes. Though his gaze was sharp and narrowed, the way his ears flattened against his bulbous head made it clear that he was worried for Adrien. 

The way the blonde kept his eyes trained on the TV, lost in the story and unfolding events, gave Plagg reason to believe that he was struck with recollections from his past. 

The kwami wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Knowing Adrien, he hoped that whatever storm was brewing behind those emerald eyes of his would settle soon. 

As new footage began to play on the live broadcast, he registered the way the blonde’s grip on his sweats tightened. Glancing at the TV, Plagg understood why. 

There, on the screen in all her glory was Ladybug. 

She was far away but her physique was as clear as day. It seemed she had taken down the enormous flower with her lucky charm. 

Narrowing his eyes, Plagg noticed that nothing about the heroine had changed. She was still clad in her trademark red and black polka dotted suit. The only subtle change was her pigtails. They appeared to be a bit longer with the ends running just past her shoulders but with the given distance, he couldn’t tell for sure. 

Glancing at his chosen, Plagg was perturbed by the blonde’s expression. His jaw was set taut but the sheer look of terror, guilt and distress within his emerald eyes gave away the facade he tried to wear. 

When he saw Adrien flinch, the kwami moved from his spot to hover near the tense model. 

In that moment, Plagg was afraid of two things. 

One, he was afraid Adrien would relapse. He understood the impact his mother’s death had on him and the way it had caused him to spiral into a devastating episode of depression. The long, sleepless nights accompanied by complete social isolation didn’t help his mental state. During that year, Plagg allowed the blonde to reject his duties as a hero and did his best to comfort him and keep him from bearing the burden of explaining himself. 

With that said, both Adrien Agreste and Chat noir had disappeared off the grid. And well, when Adrien’s father finally noticed his son’s condition and forced him to get treatment, the outcome of months of therapy gave birth to someone new. The Adrien that had walked out ‘recovered’ as his father had put, was quiet and kept to himself. He focused on excelling in post secondary and graduating with honors. He also refused to talk about his past- which included his alter ego. 

Plagg was sure then that the blonde would reject the ring but he hadn’t. For some reason unbeknownst to him, Adrien had decided to keep him around. 

From that day, Plagg swore to make sure his chosen never fell back into that dark loop and occasionally, entertain and remind Adrien of who he was despite the fact that the boy hated it. 

The kwami wasn’t sure if the blonde missed being Chat noir but as the years passed by and the model allowed himself to build his own empire, the little deity was sure he had moved on. 

That was...until now. 

With this sudden attack and Ladybug’s return, he wasn’t sure what kind of emotions were running through Adrien’s head. The only thing he knew for sure, given by the blonde’s body language, was that her appearance had definitely tore open the very thing he had neglected and turned away from for so many years- his past. 

Which then brought Plagg to his second fear. 

The fear that despite everything taking place, Adrien would run from it all and leave Ladybug to take part in a battle she wasn’t built to fight alone.


	17. Revival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! 
> 
> This chapter is a bit long and it includes a r t *u*
> 
> I had the pleasure of commissioning a piece by the talented eggroll on Instagram- PLEASE check them out! They are very talented! Their handle is @noeggrollforu 
> 
> I also drew a piece for this chapter uwu
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!

Sweat lined the edges of her mask and slithered down the sides of her face. 

Her chest heaved with great effort, trying to keep up with the sporadic pulse of her heart. Her arms burned, begging her for a break. Her lungs were on fire but Ladybug would not falter. 

Not yet. 

She had come too close, gone too far and had given too much to fall back now. 

The akuma, who called herself Belladonna, had followed her as according to plan but the spotted heroine hadn’t accounted for the woman’s stellar speed. What caught her off guard was the way she fought. 

Belladonna hadn’t wasted time on pleasantries but had struck an attack as soon as she had arrived. It seemed that cutting down a plant didn’t sit well with her. 

Keeping her defensive stance, Ladybug narrowed her eyes on the pale woman as she stood tall atop one of her flowers. 

“Looks like someone’s getting tired,” the akuma hissed. 

“In your dreams.” 

Though her voice was laced with confidence, on the inside, she was anything but. Ladybug could feel herself breaking. She wasn’t used to this. Even with the suit, she felt every blow along with the strain of keeping up with her opponent. Her punches were starting to lag and her ability to dodge hits grew slimmer with the passing of each second. It wouldn’t be long before her body would give in. 

She just hoped she could pinpoint and break the akumatized object before then. 

That jarring, sharp, feminine laugh sprung from Belladonna’s lips as she tossed her head back. The white glow of her eyes flashed brighter as a wicked smile took her lips. 

“You say that but your body says otherwise. Admit it, it won’t be long before I snap you in two.” 

Taking a daunting step forward, Ladybug unhooked her yo-yo and spun it to her side. 

“We’ll see about that,” the heroine muttered.

As she charged forth, wind whipping through her red ribbons, the words of the akuma echoed within the back of her head. Ignoring their taunts, she focused on the figure sprinting towards her.

Thrusting her yo-yo forward, Ladybug tried to wrap the indestructible wire around the akuma’s arms. If she could just bind them in place, she'd be able to search the woman for the object that had turned her into a vicious monster. However, Belladonna was quick on her feet, her purple dress flowing as she easily dodged the attempt. 

Pivoting on her toes, her white eyes flashed as a malicious smirk took her lips, “my turn.”

Bearing her pointed teeth, the woman whipped a large stem dotted with thorns at the spotted heroine. Ladybug’s muscles cried out in pain as she twisted away from the attack, her suit just barely skimming one of the sharpened points. 

Landing on her feet, the raven head locked eyes with the woman as a bitter scowl took her features. Pulse pounding within her chest, she drew her arm back, ready to pin down the akuma for what felt like the thousandth time. 

With every strike, she felt the energy draining from her limbs. The adrenaline coursing through her body slowed as fatigue mingled into her bloodstream. Every missed shot invited doubt.

It didn’t take long after for the darkness to seep into her thoughts.

_you can’t do this._

The voice resembled her own but dripped with venom. It hissed with poisonous breath, deteriorating her resilience. 

And for a moment, as she held her furrowed gaze with the woman standing across from her, Ladybug believed it.

Maybe she had made a mistake. 

Maybe she shouldn't have told Trixx to keep Alya hidden. Yes, she didn't want anything to happen to her best friend but she was now realizing that she truly needed help.

She couldn't do this alone.

She had _thought_ she could, she really did. She was so convinced that fighting off this akuma would be a breeze that she had gotten ahead of herself and now, it was hitting her hard. Literally. 

How had she let this happen? What made her think she could possibly take on a destructive akuma all by herself after years of living without engaging in combat? Had she given herself too much credit? Or, was it because a small part of her had done it out of arrogance and pride. That a part of her wanted to prove that she didn’t care if she didn’t have a partner she could count on anymore; that she was more than capable of fending for herself. That she didn’t _need_ him.

Her eyes stung as her vision suddenly grew bleary.

_Not now. Focus._

She hated how weak she felt. She hated how deflated she felt. And she hated that despite everything, a part of her wished her partner were here with her.

_Stop it. You know he isn't coming. He's moved on. it's time for you to do the same._

And so with gritted teeth, she hurled her yo-yo at the woman with every ounce of strength that was left in her.

There was no going back.

* * *

Her heart clenched upon every blow the heroine took. 

Alya helplessly watched with worry brewing within the pit of her stomach as Ladybug tried to dodge the akuma’s hits. 

Her hand clutched the pendant hanging from her necklace, hating how she couldn’t do anything to help. 

A part of her screamed, clawing at her to screw the plan and utter the words needed to transform into Rena Rouge. To get out there and help Ladybug. 

The only thing keeping her from sprinting out of the alley and into the midst of the battle were Trixx’s words. The way the kwami had warned her; the slight, almost imperceptible darkness that lined her tone was enough to convince her that there was an overriding reason Ladybug wanted her out of sight.

Although Alya had no idea what it was, she trusted Ladybug and her judgement. 

As her golden eyes glanced at the empty rooftops, she felt her stomach churn.

Returning her focus on the battle, Alya whispered her agitated thoughts into the air.

“Come on, Chat noir...where are you?”

* * *

“Adrien.” 

His kwami’s voice sounded distant. 

His surroundings felt muted.

Because his eyes were witnessing his worst nightmare unravel on the screen before him. 

And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t look away.

The guilt sunk like a dead weight within his stomach. 

She looked just like she did all those years ago; strong, fierce, beautiful. Not a hair was out of place. Her body moved fluidly, but Adrien could tell she was struggling from the way she was just skimming those punches. 

Swallowing thickly, he felt his pulse quicken as the akuma landed a blow to her shoulder, sending her staggering back. She was in trouble.

“She needs help,” he heard a grouchy voice speak up from his far left. 

She really did. 

But how could he face her? 

After all these years, she would be furious. He had done nothing to reach out or even inform her about his unfortunate luck and how it had impacted his life. He hadn’t made a point to send her some sort of message and convey his whereabouts. 

He had left her. 

Much like he had left everyone else. 

With nearly seven years of radio silence, how could he possibly turn up now? How could he look her in the eyes after what he had done? How could he explain himself without giving everything away? 

He couldn’t. 

She would hate him. 

She probably already did. 

Adrien couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at him with resentment.

What would he even say? 

_“I’m sorry for disappearing? I realized too late that you didn’t know who I was and why I had left Paris unlike everybody else I knew?”_

Yeah, like that would get him anywhere. She would call his truth bull and loathe him for the rest of her life for a line like that. 

And Adrien wasn’t sure if his already guild-ridden conscience could handle that. 

That because of his careless actions and inability to right his wrong doing, Ladybug would forever despise him. 

That wasn’t the only thing keeping him rooted to the spot, though. 

The weight of his ring felt heavier than usual and Adrien knew exactly why.

He was ambivalent of the idea of transforming into Chat noir. It had been so long. Maybe too long. 

In that moment, it was as if the world around him had snapped back into place, liberating him from his captured state. Suddenly, he was reminded of what he had been doing before his attention was taken by the live broadcast. The image of the blue brooch he was keeping hidden within his watch box struck him on the head and sent a paralysis down his entire body as the gears in his mind began to turn.

_I can’t go out there._

“ _LOOKING_ at it won’t make it go away.” 

Shaken by Plagg’s sudden appearance, Adrien jerked out of his momentary panic. The kwami was hovering just before his face, arms crossed and eyes narrowed upon him like the muzzle of a gun. 

It took him a moment to catch onto what the little creature was on about.

From the seriousness lining his tiny, glowing, green eyes, Adrien could tell where this conversation was headed and it filled him with utter dread. 

“You know what you have to do, right, kid?” 

He stared at Plagg, alarm bells ringing within his head. 

It seemed the kwami had picked up on the blonde’s overstrung reaction for his features softened as his voice took on a more considerate tone. 

“You need to go out there and help her.” 

The words hit him like a bullet, constricting his blood vessels and tearing through the walls he kept up. His chest tightened and for a moment, he felt like a deer caught in the headlights. 

_“I can’t.”_

His lips whispered the words without falter.

Of course, they didn’t sit well with Plagg for his ears suddenly sprung to life, pointing up, as his face screwed up in confusion. His voice, however, held a sharpness to its heat. 

“ _What_?” 

Moving his eyes to set on the TV, Adrien repeated himself, “I can’t.”

“What do you _mean_ ‘you can’t’?” Plagg began, the anger in his voice rising as he continued, “what? You forgot the words? Has it really been _that_ long, Adrien?” 

The blonde remained silent, his gaze slowly traveling to set on his watch box.

The quiet which followed held a tension so intense, the single flap of a butterfly’s wing could have sliced it in two.

Adrien could feel his kwami’s gaze burning holes into his skull. With his head still turned away from his tiny companion, he was adamant on sticking to what he had said. He wasn’t going out there.

The silence held reign over the room until after what felt like endless minutes, he heard Plagg finally sigh. 

“Look...I know it’s been a while but you have a duty to protect this city too. When you kept the ring, you made that decision. You can’t just ignore all of this and go about your day-” a shade of seriousness entered his kwami’s voice, “-without consequences...” 

_Adrien’s heart constricted._

“...you and I both know you can’t escape this...” 

_His breath quickened as he clenched his hands into fists._

“...and you and I both know you’re the only person who-” 

“I CAN’T, Plagg!" the words tore through his throat. "I’m not going out there so piss off."

He hadn’t expected the look of disdain that crossed his kwami’s eyes. And well, when he saw those slitted irises narrow upon him as a dark shadow crossed Plagg’s deepening scowl, Adrien wished he had swallowed his words. 

“Why? Why can't you?" Plagg's voice trembled with anger. "There is NOTHING stopping you except for YOU, Adrien. For ONCE in your life CAN YOU NOT BE SO SELFISH,” darting towards the blonde, the kwami stuck out an arm, pointing to the TV, “SHE NEEDS YOU.” 

Keeping Plagg's deadly gaze, Adrien kept his ground, “no, she doesn’t.” 

He could feel it; the eruption of his guilt paired with his recent discovery was tipping the walls of his thinning patience. 

“YES. SHE DOES. WHY CAN’T YOU-” 

“-I CAN’T, PLAGG!” the force with which he propelled the words strained his throat, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M THE REASON SHE’S OUT THERE FIGHTING IN THE FIRST PLACE.” 

A look of confusion flashed through Plagg’s eyes. 

“What?” 

A sudden knock broke the heated tension building within the room. 

Both holder and kwami turned their heads towards the door as a second, softer knock followed suit.

“Mister Agreste, are you alright?” 

Somehow, the voice of his assistant both cooled and vexed Adrien. 

“Fine, Claudia. Why are you still here? Didn’t I tell you you could leave?” 

There was no immediate answer. 

From the corner of his eye, he caught Plagg shaking his head. 

And then, “...I couldn’t.” 

Blinking, Adrien turned to his kwami who gave him a shrug. 

“Why is that?” he asked slowly, his eyes still hung on Plagg. 

Again, her answer was preceded by a beat of silence, “I wanted to go with you...I am your PA, afterall.” 

The sigh which came from his core left him face palming. 

“Claudia. Go with Trevor right now. I told you, I’ll come later by _myself_.” 

“...as you wish, sir.” 

He waited until he heard the sounds of her heels clicking away before looking up in time to catch Plagg rolling his eyes. 

“At least she didn’t come in,” Adrien offered, the beginnings of a faint grin whispering across his lips. 

When he saw that his humor made no difference in Plagg’s disgruntled mood, the corners of his mouth quickly turned down to create a thinning line. Adrien let out a heavy sigh. 

His previous words and their impact were slowly coming into perspective and he found himself thinking: why? Why was he so adamant on wanting to hide away. 

From the look of disappointment casting down upon him from his kwami’s eyes, he knew the reason for his stubborn behaviour wasn’t only due to his recent discovery. 

Because the truth was, deep down and veiled within the farthest corner of his mind, Adrien knew that even if he hadn’t obliviously taken out the enigma that was the blue brooch from that briefcase and inturn, had caused a domino effect in breaching a deal his father had made with the mysterious ‘M’- one of which he was unaware of, causing Paris to be consumed by mass destruction, he would still refuse to step into the light of the city. 

And upon registering this awakening reality, for some reason, the words of his former classmate, his former friend, returned with an echo- this time not to taunt, but relay his true colours to him within his head.

_‘You’re such an ass.’_

Marinette was right. Afterall, actions spoke louder than words.

And so far, his actions proved one thing: he wasn’t just an ass. He was also a coward. 

Clenching his fists, Adrien hated the way his guilt was able to immobilize him. He felt as if a boulder had been placed upon his shoulders and now, he was crumbling beneath its weight. 

Denial had gotten him nowhere and as much as it stung to admit, Plagg had a point. 

The only thing keeping him shackled to his demons was himself.

His eyes caught his etiolated reflection within the full-sized mirrors fixed upon his closet’s double doors. 

In that brief moment, it struck Adrien that maybe, this was his calling. 

The thought sent his heart staggering back, but the more he thought about it, the more it pieced together in an almost seamless fashion. 

This entire predicament was uncalled for. First, the wedding invitation that had arrived late winter last year. Adrien had thought that was the end of it. He had never been so wrong. For soon after, his father’s sudden yet coincidental illness struck from thin air. When that got progressively worse, it forced him to visit the one city that he did his best to avoid. Then, once he had arrived, he managed to somehow bump into _Marinette_ of all people- and continued to constantly cross paths with her. And now, this attack and Ladybug. 

The events were so precisely placed, one after the other, that it seemed the universe itself was trying to tell him something. 

That maybe, it was time to reflect on who he was becoming. 

_‘Like your dad.’_

And if he wanted to change before completely morphing into the demon himself. 

* * *

She was suffocating. 

With a snarl, Ladybug tried yanking herself free from the vines entangling her arms and legs. They were coiling around her limbs as tight as a snake would to its vulnerable prey. She was being rooted in place and her shortness of breath was a terrifying reminder that her body was slowly wearing out. The irony of her current immobility was snort-worthy and had the severity of the situation not been as dire, she would have let loose a hearty laugh herself. 

Wrestling with the plants that seemed to have a mind of their own, her fingers were able to tighten around her yo-yo. She really hadn’t wanted to do what she did next but Ladybug had no choice. She was cornered. 

Flinging the yo-yo towards the sky, the heroine cried out with a straining throat, “LUCKY CHARM!”

She felt her heart stall as the enchanted words she hadn’t uttered in years rolled off her tongue with ease. A blinding light of pink and white enveloped the area, causing the raven head to look away, eyes screwed shut. Had her vision really fallen out of habit of witnessing her powers? 

Afraid that Belladonna would be able to tell the difference between her decoy lucky charm that had been lost sometime during the battle and the axe which fell from mid air and into her hands, Ladybug wasted no time in chopping away the vines. 

Of course, this only riled up the woman. 

With her back turned towards the akuma, the raven head failed to register the sense of something hurdling her way. Turning around much too late, she was thrown across the road by the momentum of a large root. 

As her body came to a skidding stop, Ladybug wasted no time in pushing herself off the pavement with her forearms, even if the action caused her muscles to cry out in pain. She could feel the burning sting the root had left beneath her suit as she got to her feet. 

Her bones felt heavy, her lungs felt worn and the air around her tensed. Bluebell eyes scanned the ground and found her lucky charm a few feet from where she stood. 

With her pulse pounding in her temples, her gaze locked with Belladonna’s. 

A perfectly wicked grin was engraved upon those lips of hers and in that moment, Ladybug realized it was a public display of victory. She had lost. 

The thought choked her.

It was true. 

She was all alone and exhausted. She had bitten off more than she could chew. However, the heavy feeling resting upon her shoulders, the very feeling that had weighed down on her throughout this entire battle made her question if she even had the teeth to chew to begin with.

No matter how hard of a front she had put on, Belladonna had seen right through her facade, as if it were transparent. 

Ladybug had already lost the battle before it had even begun. 

She was hopeless, tired and out of time.

The only thing that surprised her was the fact that her earrings hadn’t started their countdown yet. Although it had been years, she knew they began their chirping not long after the summoning of her lucky charm. 

Speaking of which- her eyes glanced back at the axe. It was far but the distance could be covered if she sprinted. The way her legs ached told her running was an impossible request at that given moment. She could try grabbing it with her yo-yo but the hit she had taken from that stupid root had messed her shoulder pretty bad. The muscle felt stiff and sore. 

Drawing her gaze back to the akuma, her brows furrowed when she saw that Belladonna had her attention trained on something else. The woman’s features were a blank slate, almost as if she was mesmerized by whatever it was that her eyes had landed on. Suddenly, a purple hue painted across her eyes and the bridge of her nose. The outline of a butterfly appeared in a neon light around her face. 

Hawkmoth. He was communicating with the akuma. 

The akuma who currently seemed quiescent; lost with her surroundings. Exactly what had her pinned in place like that? 

With a frown, Ladybug turned to see for herself and immediately, her heart stalled. 

Her pupils constricted as her breath came too fast.

Wild, blonde hair, lean muscles and a tight, black leather suit. Ladybug didn’t register any of it. For her body had gone numb due to the pair of ever familiar, glowing, jade eyes locking with her own.

Standing atop the roof of the building behind her was Chat noir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 030 
> 
> There won't be an update next week- sorry :')
> 
> BUT I will be back on the 19th with chapter 18...it's going to be a monster of a chapter TuT
> 
> Chat noir was draw by the talented Eggroll and I drew Ladybug! 
> 
> If you missed it- there was a parallel present in this chapter 👀
> 
> If you recall, in chapter 14, Marinette's worst nightmare was revealed: the return of an akuma, forcing her to transform into Ladybug and resume her duties that she felt she had fallen out of habit with. In this chapter, Adrien's worst nightmare is revealed: the return of Ladybug, forcing back a surge of memories and his guilt of leaving her behind. Interesting. 🌚
> 
> Thank you for reading 💞


	18. Two Way Mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah...I think I've made you wait long enough
> 
> Enjoy this extra long chapter ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

_What the fuck-_

-was her immediate and initial reaction. 

As glittering sapphires took in the image of her partner standing on the ledge of the roof, Ladybug’s stomach dropped to a depth she didn’t know existed. However, the feeling was short lived as the gears in her head began to turn. 

That wasn’t Chat noir- it couldn’t be. 

Yet the more she stared, the greater the look of incredulous shock embedded into her features. With wide eyes and a prominent frown, she witnessed his cat ears flatten against his head as he broke away from her gaze. 

Ladybug could feel her heart thudding against the walls of her chest. Its beat hammered so furiously, she almost felt as if her ribs would crack open and let the organ burst through. 

_That can’t be him…_

Her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. She had encountered Adrien enough times to know that he had grown into a walking glacier. Hard, cold, and apathetically buoyant. The idea nearly made her hash out a satirical chuckle. It wasn’t him.

To think, she had nearly fell for one of her mind’s-

_-illusion._

Suddenly, her back went rigid and Ladybug whipped her head back towards the akuma. She was caught by surprise when she saw that Belladonna was still trapped in her entranced state, the glow of Hawkmoth's butterfly still lit before her face. Good. 

The woman’s lack of attention allowed the heroine to do a quick round of her surroundings. Heat roared from the tips of her fingers through to her core. She had been very clear with Trixx. Alya was to remain hidden, preferably in a location far from the battle, one that was inconspicuous at best. The brunette was to lay low until the threat had been neutralized by her.

So why the HELL was there an illusion of her-her- 

Gritting her teeth, the raven head clenched her hands into fists. 

She wanted to punch something. Anything. 

The anger which coursed through her veins ignited her in the most combustible of ways. 

That was until...she felt a fine tingle on her nape as the inkling feeling of being watched crawled down her skin. Swiveling her head back, she caught the illusion staring and once again, its radiant, emerald eyes tore away from her gaze.

Frowning, Ladybug returned her attention to the akuma. 

She could worry about the weird actions of an illusion later...right now, she had bigger problems to deal with. 

Taking a small, hesitant step forward, Ladybug inched closer to the woman. Despite the akuma's incapacitated state, the heroine kept her guard up. There was no telling when Hawkmoth would allow Belladonna to regain control over her body and powers and Ladybug wasn't in the mood to be taken by surprise. 

Ironic it was that in the very next moment, her peripheral vision noticed a slight dart of movement, causing her to halt in her tracks. The fire in her sapphire eyes died the moment she realized what _it_ was. 

A fraction of what was clearly her best friend’s face was peeking around the corner of an alley not far from behind where Belladonna stood. Alya’s auburn tresses were spilling over her shoulder as a look of wonderment filled her golden eyes.

That’s when a bolt of lightning struck the raven head’s heart. 

Her shoulders stiffened as a shudder frolicked down her form. 

The figure standing behind her was no illusion. It was real. 

And Ladybug wasn’t sure how to react. 

A surge of emotions barreled through her all at once. Her eyes suddenly welled up as heat erupted from her core. She was sure there was anger buried within her shock but there was also an overwhelming amount of endearment for the blond flooding her senses- something she found rather cretinous. The involuntary tears threatening the corners of her eyes alarmed her.

_Get a grip, Marinette._

Of course, she couldn’t dwell on her feelings, nor pick them apart. She didn’t get to have that luxury right now. So long as she was clad in indestructible, red and black polka dotted nylon, she had to keep her head in the game. Distractions were forbidden.

And so, with a deep breath, Ladybug slipped her finger through the loop of her yo-yo and began spinning her weapon to the side, trying hard to ignore the prominent throbbing pulsating within her shoulder. When Belladonna didn’t even so as flinch, the heroine aimed for the axe discarded in the middle of the street. This was her chance.

Reeling in her lucky charm, she was just about to reach for the woman's purse when the unprecedented took place. 

Suddenly, Belladonna fell to her knees, her neck still craned and head tipped back. Her mouth opened wide, only to let out a mute scream as her pale features screwed up in what seemed like immense pain. 

Ladybug’s eyes widened in horror as she witnessed the akumatized butterfly digging its way out of the woman's flesh. As the frail, devil of an insect emerged from its victim, the sound of nothing but a faint croak could be heard from the woman. A surge of purple goop enveloped her body and for a moment, it looked as if the woman had been trapped within a hardened chrysalis. 

The raven head held her breath, perplexity apparent on her features as she observed the cacoon teeter before it broke away to reveal the victim reverted to what she must have looked like before being infected by the butterfly. The woman, who now had sandy, beige skin and dark brown hair with a few strands of blonde highlights stared blankly towards the sky. Her eyes were wide and terror ridden. 

A sense of bewilderment kept Ladybug from moving. She was so transfixed by the turn of events that her body failed to react in time. The raven head witnessed the woman sway before her balance gave out, causing her to fall flat, face first on the concrete. The sound her forehead made as it hit the rubble strewn road was odious enough to make Ladybug flinch and look away with eyes screwing shut.

Cracking open a lid, she found a splatter of crimson dotting the pavement. The sight made her stomach lurch. As much as the heroine wanted to check on the woman, her attention was taken by the violet butterfly. With her eyes trained on the insect, her hand moved to set on her yo-yo. 

It was time to cleanse and be rid of this thing once and for all.

Which is exactly why when the hideous creature shriveled up and fell to the ground that the raven head was left staring, confounded.

_It...died?_

The crease in her mask deepened as she tried making sense of what she had just witnessed. As her eyes lingered on the butterfly, she noticed the way its wings looked torn. The body of the insect was withered, as if the creature had tried ripping apart its own limbs. 

Well, at least that cleared up one thing. The akuma didn’t die. 

It killed itself.

_But why._

In all his years, Hawkmoth had never killed one of his own creations. Ladybug knew that. So...why would he go about and spring all this destruction upon the city only to discard the monster he had created? 

It just didn’t make sense. 

Then again, nothing made sense these days. 

With her fingers tightening around her lucky charm, Ladybug returned her attention to the woman and slowly crouched next to her still form. A look of worry plastered her face as her hand carefully set upon the girl’s shoulder. 

“Hey…” she gently shook the woman who, up close and without all the exaggerated features, looked more like a young girl well into her early twenties.

A faint mumble came from beneath her head of brown hair. 

“Are you okay?” Ladybug questioned, her tone soft yet stitched with concern.

The brunette beneath her touch stirred and a moment later, she was lifting her head off the ground. Ladybug winced as she saw a thick line of bright crimson running down her face. A shallow gash lay split open across the center of her forehead. 

The blood appeared to have stopped flowing so Ladybug refrained from panicking too much. 

Helping the young woman turn onto her back, the raven head waited for her to adjust to her surroundings. She could tell the poor girl was dizzy and was most likely suffering from a major concussion. 

“Are you okay?” the heroine slowly repeated herself.

A pair of brown-hazel eyes fluttered open to focus on her. When the woman made no immediate reaction of registration, Ladybug sighed, “right.” 

Moving away from the brunette, the spotted heroine lifted herself off the pavement. It was just as she had feared. The fall had earned a great injury. Bluebell eyes downcasted their gaze to the axe within her hold. There was only one way of undoing all the damage. 

Feeling the weight of her lucky charm in her one hand, she took a deep breath. She could do this. This was the easy part, afterall. 

So, why was it that her limbs felt locked in place? 

It wasn’t particularly internal- the paralysis, it was more like she could feel a pair of eyes set on her. Silently observing. 

Her gaze did a quick round of the empty street and found Alya’s head still poking out of that alley. Though, what caused Ladybug to look over her shoulder was the fact that her best friend’s confused gaze wasn’t set on her but rather, something behind her. 

To her surprise, she was greeted with the figure of her partner tarrying on the roof. The sight made her frown. 

_He’s still here?_

Her sapphires would have lingered on him a moment longer but the sudden sound of a hoarse cough caused her to whip her head back. The young brunette was slowly towing closer to consciousness, her head lolling to the side. 

_Right. The woman._

Tightening her fingers around the handle of the axe, Ladybug threw the charm into the air, her lips moving to announce the magical phrase that would revert everything back to the way it was. “Miraculous Ladybug!”

Upon the call, the axe burst into billions of magical miniature ladybugs, all swarming towards the destruction and returning it to its initial state. As the bugs enveloped and healed the young woman, Ladybug heard the first sounds of sirens faintly manifesting in the distance.

Ignoring their presence, the heroine focused her attention on the brunette who was in the process of sitting up, the gash on her forehead, gone. Ladybug internally sighed in relief. It wasn’t that she thought her lucky charm wouldn’t heal the gash, it was just the fact that it had been a long time since she had witnessed such a phenomenon. 

Kneeling down, the raven head offered the woman a kind smile. As a pair of hazel-brown eyes set on her, Ladybug could tell that things were about to get a bit...complicated. 

The first thing the young woman did was screech, the sound loud and sharp. What followed were a string of unidentifiable noises until eventually, a few coherent words were able to take shape from her lips. 

“What the- how- where- **_LADYBUG_**???” 

That’s all it took. Five words. 

Five words which made the heroine realize that her return wasn't only going to be jarring to just herself- no. The public would also react to her resurrection. 

And judging from the way she was being pointed at by a shaking finger, Ladybug assumed it wasn’t going to be an enjoyable experience. The press was definitely going to devour her whole. Speaking of, her ladybugs had most likely cleared all the roads by now which meant that most reporters were probably already on their way to where she was. 

She had to quickly wrap things up. 

However, before she could act, she once again sensed this restlessness within her nerves, one which prompted the impression that she was still being watched.

Out of habit, her eyes took a quick glance over her shoulder and, lo and behold, there he still was. Chat noir- Adrien, idly standing on the roof and unable to keep her gaze. 

For a moment, a surge of anger rattled within her. Why was he just loitering around? If he wasn’t going to help her, why bother staying? Was this his way of telling her that he didn’t care? That he didn’t want any part in this partnership anymore? Through a cold shoulder?

Rage ignited within her and she had to fight the urge to swing onto the roof and give him a piece of her mind. 

Closing her eyes, she willed her emotions to settle. Now was not the time.

_Focus on the victim. She’s probably shaken up. Deal with his ass later._

Drawing a breath, Ladybug returned her attention to the brunette who, surprisingly, had gone quiet. Despite her silence, the heroine could clearly make out the slight shake of her shoulders. 

Slowly reaching out, she placed her nylon clad hand on her knee, causing the young brunette to snap her eyes towards her. Offering a kind smile, Ladybug gave her knee a light squeeze. “You’re okay now.” 

Bluebell irises could see the lining of unshed tears brimming the young woman’s hazel eyes. 

“Are you real?” came a soft, almost broken whisper. 

Ladybug felt her heart collapse as she nodded with empathy. It was worse than she had thought.

A soft gasp escaped the woman’s quivering lips. The raven head felt a tug within her chest upon the sight.

“Did I…” the woman began with a watery voice, casting her gaze downward.

Ladybug noticed the brunette visibly swallow as her beige hands slowly curled into trembling fists. 

“I..I hurt people, didn’t I?”

She had said it so quietly, the heroine had nearly missed it. Moving her hand from her knee, the raven head gently sandwiched one of the brunette’s fists between her nylon clad hands.

She knew it to be a bleak attempt, but she tried to calm the woman with what she believed to be a soothing reassurance. “Hey, it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You had no control over it.” 

When she found that her sweet whispers had no immediate effect, Ladybug tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. Maybe her words were unable to quell the guilt the woman was feeling? Although, that was probably not the case since she knew from Alya that the memories formed while under Hawkmoth’s influence did not take shape until after a few hours of being de-akumatized. It was a long shot but she had to make sure.

“Do you..remember anything?” 

The heroine observed the young girl, watching as those hazel-brown eyes of her searched the asphalt while her brows pulled down in thought. After a moment, however, the brunette took a sharp intake of breath, her free hand landing on her temple as if trying to soothe pain. 

Ladybug already knew the answer before the young brunette had even begun to shake her head.

“No, I...I was at work and then...everything's a blur after that,” the woman’s frown deepened, “..I don’t understand...I thought they were gone-” lifting her gaze, the brunette finally met eyes with the heroine before her, “-the butterflies.”

Ladybug felt her own brows curve upwards beneath the mask as she saw swirls of honey gold twinkling in the women’s pained and fear ridden eyes. In that moment, she shared the same feeling of uncertainty as the young girl before her. The same feeling of the world being swept from beneath the feet. 

In that moment, she found a faint connection between her and the victim spark to life. She knew well that the expression resting on the girl’s face was the same hers had fostered not too long ago. It was the expression of horror and disbelief. Just like her, the woman had gotten a taste of what it’s like for the world to be drastically shifted within the blink of an eye.

With a small, almost desolate smile, Ladybug whispered, “me too.”

Giving the young woman’s fist a final, light squeeze, the heroine slowly withdrew her hold and beamed, “but don’t worry, so long as the butterflies exist, I’ll be here to clean up their mess.” 

It sometimes amazed Ladybug how she was able to lie straight through her teeth.

Then again, her words did bare some truth. Although her reassurance was swathed in confidence, she knew well that deep down, a part of her was still unsure of herself. Afterall, her victory today had had nothing to do with her skill and everything to do with plain, dumb luck. Had the akuma not been paralized, Ladybug knew she wouldn’t be sitting here before the cleansed woman. 

Speaking of, it seemed the girl was a bit more relaxed than when she had initially come to. Taking this as the perfect opportunity to finally identify the woman, the heroine sat up straight and tilted her head ever so slightly.

“What’s your name?” 

The brunette had just opened her mouth to answer when suddenly-

“KELSY!”

Both women spun their heads towards the cry. Coming into view was a petite figure with a head of blonde curls bouncing to the speed of its swift jog. Squinting her sapphire eyes as the mysterious blonde came into view, a strange sense of recognition struck the heroine. She knew it wasn’t possible but she had a strong feeling that she had seen this woman somewhere before.

It wasn’t Chloé, she knew that much. Still- bouncy, blonde hair; where had she seen this? Moving out of the way, Ladybug smiled upon seeing the petite woman dive into the brunette and collect her in a tight embrace. 

“Oh Kelsy, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” 

The words were a bit muffled but the raven head could make them out. That explained the akumatization. A classic feud between...friends? Or lovers? She couldn’t tell. 

Shrugging it off, the heroine was just about to get to her feet and give the two some space when something caught her attention. 

“I’m okay now, I’m okay! Why are you apologizing, Hailey?” 

Hailey. _Hailey_.

Pausing mid action, Ladybug whipped her head up to see the two girls holding each other’s gaze. 

Blue eyes, blonde curls. Of course. The fangirl she had come across at Paris Towers the other day! _THAT’S_ why she looked familiar. 

“Oh Kels, I should have never let you go! I should have taken the shift...Mags wouldn’t have yelled at you and if I had just been there, that-that _thing_ wouldn’t have taken over you! Are you _sure_ you’re okay??”

A pair of hazel eyes glanced at her before settling on her friend. 

With an accompanying grin, the brunette beamed, “I’m okay! Though I don’t remember much…” again, those hazel irises snapped back to the heroine, “I do know that Ladybug saved me.”

This caused Hailey to turn her attention towards the raven head as well. Offering the blonde a small wave, Ladybug was taken aback when the young woman took a hold of her wrist and pulled her in for a quick but tight hug. 

“Thank you,” Hailey breathed. 

The way her blue eyes glimmered caused Ladybug’s cheeks to flush. She was definitely not used to the praise anymore.

“You don’t have to thank me! It’s kinda my job,” the heroine chuckled.

Turning her attention to the woman who now had a name- Kelsy, the raven head offered a warm smile. “Do you need help getting back home?” 

The brunette cocked a brow as her gaze moved to set on something behind the heroine, “depends…” nodding at the building where Chat noir stood, a shade of faint rouge blushed against her beige skin, “will he be escorting me?” 

Upon this, Ladybug briefly rolled her eyes. “No, he won’t.” 

“Pity…” Kelsy sighed as she turned to look at her friend, humor vivid in her tone, “I was _so_ ready to be carried home by him.” 

The raven head watched as Hailey stifled a giggle into her knuckles and after a moment, raised a question that reminded the heroine of her previously suppressed rage. 

“Why hasn’t he come down here yet?” 

Turning back to look at the blonde hero in question, Ladybug scowled. "No idea."

For the first time, his attention wasn’t trained on her. He was looking off into the distance, most likely observing something behind the building. 

His very presence irritated her. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t bothered to approach her. Was he going to treat her the same way he had treated Marinette? Like a stranger? 

That’s when something finally clicked within her head.

He didn’t know. 

Unlike her, he didn’t know her identity. So theoretically speaking, this was the first time he was seeing her all over again- except this time, as Ladybug. She realized then that Adrien didn’t see her the way she saw him- one in the same. To him, she was still two, separate people. 

To him, Ladybug was still, in a way, a stranger. Someone anonymous. Someone he couldn’t tell his whereabouts to without compromising his identity. And since he had no idea that she already knew...

_Shit._

Of _course_ he wouldn’t want to talk to her. He probably thought she would want an explanation and since he couldn’t provide an honest one, he was probably thinking of a way to approach the situation. _That’s_ why he hadn’t left. 

Well, now she felt like utter crap. The stiffness so evidently encompassing his figure, his obvious lack of propinquity, the way his eyes would avoid her gaze, it all finally made sense. She had been reading this- reading _him_ all wrong. 

Ladybug decided the best way to handle this was to confront him herself. Judging by his rooted state, she was sure that he wasn’t going to be making the first move anytime soon. 

"It's alright, Ladybug. I can take Kels here home...you should probably talk to him." 

Turning around, Ladybug looked down to find Hailey helping Kelsy off the ground. With her one arm slung around her friend's shoulder, the blue-eyed blonde flashed her a quick, sympathetic grin. 

Lips quirking up into a slight smile, the raven head gave the young woman a small nod before turning back to face her partner. 

With a deep breath, Ladybug swung her yo-yo and headed for the roof. 

* * *

It was cold. 

Despite the sun beating down on him, he felt cold. 

And it was mainly because he knew that it was over. 

The look Ladybug had given him- the one after her initial, complete and utter shock was one of disdain. It may have been nearly seven years since his last encounter with her, but he didn’t need the bond they once held to see that. 

She did not want him. 

And it was this thought exactly that truly shred any sliver of hope left within him. He was bleeding out and the weight of his guilt was slowly returning, only this time, it was much heavier and unforgiving. 

To think, he had nearly believed that she would want to see him. 

It wasn’t his fault for making that assumption, though. 

_When he had transformed into his suit, his retracted staff had begun buzzing uncontrollably, indicating a string of what seemed to be endless notifications._

_When he had tried to extend the baton inorder to bound from his grand balcony, it wouldn’t allow him. It was apparently jammed by the constant notifications that he assumed he was just now recieving. Afterall, he hadn’t transformed in /years/._

_It was only when Chat noir had slid open the device built into his staff and had decided to check out the messages, that he felt his heart drop into what felt like a never-ending abyss._

_And when his eyes had found a long list of missed calls, along with a few voicemails from Ladybug, an intense and piercing pressure had concentrated itself upon his chest._

_Her texts were at first, sporadic and typical. The further down he scrolled, the more perturbed and consecutive they became, until eventually, they morphed into a single string of spam. By the time he had reached the bottom, they alternated between, ‘pick up,’ ‘call me.’ and ‘please.’_

_A shiver had run down his spine as he had contemplated on whether or not to listen to the five voicemails she had left. But when his clawed thumb had hesitantly landed on the green circle and her adolescent voice had sprung from his staff, Chat had found his eyes suddenly welling up. The uncalled reaction had startled him and had caused his pulse to pound in fortissimo._

_She had sounded annoyed, completely unaware that the partner she was contacting was gone. The thought had gutted him. However, nothing could have prepared him for the fourth voicemail. He clearly remembered the words that had made his gut clench._

_“Chat noir. I’m tired of your stupid game of hide and seek. If you think this is funny- it’s not. Where the HELL are you?”_

_She was angry. He could hear the rage within the unevenness of her voice. What had yanked the ground from beneath his feet was when later on in the voicemail, she had suddenly broke mid sentence. Chat noir couldn’t handle her quiet sobs and delicate whimpers as she struggled to convey her frustrations and worry. She had sounded so lost and confused._

_Which is exactly why the last voice mail, sent five months after the fourth, had perplexed him._

_The final voicemail was what had given him hope. For in the final voicemail, Ladybug had sounded much more composed and level headed. She had told him that she understood if he needed space. She had told him that she was okay and that she prayed he was as well._

_But what had given him the courage to vault towards the battle taking place were her last set of words, “I’m hoping to see you soon, kitty. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”_

Which is exactly why as he stood on the roof of the building behind her, the whispers of summer’s breeze tousling his hair, that he found himself to be a fool. What Ladybug had told him in the voicemail was six years of age. 

Nobody waited that long. And the very fact was proven to him when her eyes were void of the radiance they usually held while keeping his gaze. 

He was six- nearly seven years too late. 

Letting out a deflated sigh, Chat noir shifted his attention from the press slowly making their way towards him to the outline of the eiffel tower, far in the distance. 

His shoulders hung low, gravity pulling at them the same as his guilt. He had done this to himself. 

Taking a small step towards the direction from where he had arrived from, Chat noir waited until he heard the sound of that ever-familiar yo-yo being reeled, indicating Ladybug’s leave. She really didn’t want to see him, did she? It didn’t matter now anyway. 

Standing perfectly still, he allowed the summer breeze to caress his form in solitude. 

He never expected the dulcet voice that softly called out to him a moment later.

“...Chat noir?” 

His back went ramrod-straight. 

_No way..._

Slowly turning his head, his pulse pounded in anticipation as his torso followed suit. 

His lungs collapsed as his eyes met hers. 

Standing a few feet away with her hands clasped behind her back was Ladybug. 

She had come to see him. She hadn’t left.

For a moment, he only stared, his eyes ceasing to believe she was real.

Chat noir opened his mouth but that glimmer of uncertainty within her sapphire irises caused his throat to close up.

What was he supposed to say?

He was at a loss of words and panic quickly took over his head. There was so much he wanted to tell her and yet, so much he knew he couldn’t without her turning away. 

Between the tens of voices within his head, all shouting at him to do something, _say_ something, his internal struggle caused his mind to lagg, forcing him to settle for a bleak, “hey…”

He hadn’t expected his throat to be so tight, reducing his voice to a hoarse whisper. 

The greeting caused her eyes to widen by a mere fraction and Chat noir braced for impact. He wasn't sure how severely she was going to lecture him. 

He waited. However, the insults never came. 

Instead, the raven head observed him with something inexplicable dancing within the blue glint of her eyes, causing the blonde to cave into himself more than he already had. 

Chat noir was sure she awaited an explanation- that or she was determining whether or not to smite him right there on the roof for all of Paris to see. Nevertheless, he forced himself to fill the void between them.

“La-” again, his voice gave out.

Drawing a shaky breath, he tried again, “Ladybug I…” 

Chat noir swallowed, unsure of where to go from there.

He could feel his pulse hammering against his temples. With her sharp sapphires set upon him, digging invisible daggers deep into his flesh, he didn't know if she even cared to hear what he had to say anymore. 

A slight tremble took his hands as his eyes struggled to stay set on her lethal blues. Still, he compelled himself to keep her gaze. 

And then, without much thought, an apology fell from his lips. 

“I’m sorry.”

It was soft spoken and carried by the breeze. It may have been a broken whisper but he found it to be his catharsis.

And just like that, his restraints snapped, letting everything out. 

“I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I’m so, so sorry. I-I didn’t- I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t, I didn’t know how- and it all happened so fast that I just-” he was tripping over his words. He knew he wasn’t making any sense- the way Ladybug was tilting her head with her brows set was a clear indication. His panic kickstarted as she took a small step forward, her eyes trained on his. 

“-and I get it! I deserve it. Whatever you have to say, I will take it,” the anxiousness within his voice rose the closer she got and for a moment, Chat noir thought she was going to slap him across the face. 

He honestly didn’t mind. Considering what he had done- the way he had left without a word, it was practically a long time coming. Besides, no amount of physical pain could match the torment that her current silence was havocking within him. 

He leaned away from her advance, his wide eyes unable to leave hers. He felt cornered. Nothing he had said so far had induced any kind of reaction from her. He wasn’t sure what it meant. 

“Can you say something?” he croaked, growing desperate.

Chat noir didn’t know if it was his despondent tone, or his words that caused Ladybug to abruptly halt. 

When he found her lips remaining still, he tried again, “anything? Or...you don’t have to- I get it-” he saw a flash of confusion take her face before he lowered his gaze, “-you’re mad. I screwed up a-and you have have every right to-”

“-I’m not mad.”

Her voice was silk; calm, soft and gentle on the ears. 

“I know, you- wait, what?” 

His eyes shot up, searching her face for any signs of humor. Was she serious? Was there a hint of sarcasm tucked into her tone that his ears had missed? Surely his mind was deceiving him. He had to make sure he had heard her right. 

“...Y-you’re not?” 

His brows furrowed as she simply shook her head.

He stared at her in disbelief, unable to understand. 

“...But I left. I left you.” 

His skin crawled beneath his suit as she quietly observed him. He saw something twinkle and resolve within her eyes before she spoke. 

“But you’re here, aren’t you?” 

Chat noir’s chest constricted as she continued her previous advance. This was wrong. She wasn’t reacting as he’d imagined. 

Shaking his head, he felt his eyes grow hot. 

“You should be angry,” he argued, his voice uneven and wavering. 

Upon this, Ladybug furrowed her own brows. She didn’t speak until she was an arm’s length away.

“Maybe-” 

The confession stung.

“-maybe not.” 

_Why._

“Because I’m done being angry,” she let out softly. 

It seemed he had voiced his thoughts without meaning to. It didn’t matter for her answer didn’t sit well within his stomach. Chat noir struggled to comprehend the young woman before him. The partner he had abandoned. The girl he had fallen for all those years ago. The girl, he knew, would undoubtedly resent him. Yet, here she was, being the complete opposite. 

He didn't get it. Didn't get _her_. 

He didn't understand why she wasn’t screaming in his face, why she wasn’t turning her back on him, or most importantly, why she hadn’t told him how horrible of a human being he was. 

It was too much. 

He didn’t deserve her tenderness. He didn’t deserve mercy. 

* * *

Ladybug struggled to read her partner. 

He had gone quiet again and she didn’t understand that dismal look which took his features. 

She could see conflict reflecting within his eyes. If anything, she was taken aback by his apology. She was quick to note how jarringly different this side of Adrien- or, Chat noir was. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him so...deflated and raw. 

The brutal honesty coming from his mouth- and especially carrying such a deep, emotional tone was shocking to say the least. She had grown accustomed to his solemn demeanour. Still, it was comforting knowing that he cared.

_Maybe I judged him too quickly..._

Suddenly, his jade eyes glossed over and before she could open her mouth to ask what was wrong, Chat noir said something with a voice so broken, that it caused her eyes to widen in dismay.

“You don’t hate me?” 

“NO!” she denied instantaneously.

Ladybug’s heart clenched as she saw tears brimming his eyes. What the hell was going on? 

“I don’t hate you, wha- why would you even say that??” 

_What a moronic question, Marinette- you know exactly why._

Before he could answer, she dismissed whatever he had to say with the wave of her hands. 

“Chat noir, I _don’t_ hate you,” there was a weight to her voice this time, insisting that she was indeed, being honest. “Sure, what you did was pretty crappy, but...I’m over it. I told you, I’m done being mad. I’ve moved past the hurt and I’m not going to hold what you did against you if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Her words were met by silence and Ladybug wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. 

She could clearly see him struggling to keep his composure. 

After a moment, the blonde hung his head. Ladybug noticed his shoulders flinch and stole a glance at the cemented floor. 

Yep. It was just as she had expected; three, small dots imprinted on the roof before his boots. He was crying. 

_Oh my god._

For once, she had no idea how to react. Her body and instincts alike urged her to reach out and comfort him. Her intuition reminded her that this wasn’t the same partner she knew from nearly seven years ago. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to her touch. 

Needless to say, her indecision was only making things worse. 

A stifled sniff captured her attention and she saw that his hands were now clenched into fists. His head was still hung low, his eyes refusing to meet hers.

“Why are you doing this, Ladybug?” 

She inwardly flinched upon hearing her name. Maybe it was because his voice was rough and broken, like fragments of what was once a beautiful mosaic. Or maybe it was because despite the time they had spent apart, somewhere deep within the crevasse of her mind, she was expecting him to address her by one of the many nicknames he had given her. Everything about him felt so estranged. Too distant. Too stiff.

Drawing a breath, she parted her lips with the intent to ask him what he had meant. It seemed he had already caught on due to her momentary silence for he elaborated in a beat, this time bringing his eyes up to finally clash with her own.

“Why are you being so kind? I _left_ you-” 

She flinched. 

“-I left you, Ladybug-” 

Again, the name stung. 

“-I didn’t bother telling you anything. You should be furious...so, why aren’t you?” his tone went a shade darker. “You should hate me. Why are you acting like I didn’t do anything wrong? Why are you willing to forgive me so easily?"

_Because I know why you left._

The words were resting on her tongue yet her lips ceased to move. They couldn’t. Not when he was breaking down in front of her like that. 

He took a step towards her and suddenly, the raven head found herself craning her neck back just to keep his gaze. 

“Say something. Tell me you hate me. Please,” his voice broke as he continued, “don’t pretend you don’t. I saw it in your eyes. Don’t lie to me.” 

For the first time in her life, Ladybug was at a loss of words. 

Her heart broke at the sight of her partner reduced to the equivalent of a withered flower. The partner who was once so bright and giddy, blooming with radiance and wit alike. How had he turned into something so fragmented? 

The somber look filling his eyes and the pain nesting within the creases of his mask made him look unrecognizable. This wasn’t the Chat noir she knew and had come to cherish. This was a broken man, begging to be slashed by what he thought he deserved; contempt.

Without any thought, her hands were grabbing a hold of his, causing his gaze to tear away from her sapphires and move to set upon her coiling fingers. 

The crease on her mask darkened as her brows deepened in furrow. For the first time since this awkward exchange began, Ladybug didn’t bother to think. She just said whatever came to mind. 

“Why are you so bent on believing that I hate you, Chat?” she questioned in a tone that came across a bit stern. 

The shortened nickname caught his attention and his gaze lifted from their linked hands to set on hers, confusion along with something she couldn’t decipher glittering within his eyes. 

Giving his hand a light but firm squeeze, she continued effortlessly, “I already told you, I don’t hate you. And whatever it is you think you saw, you’re wrong,” her eyes softened along with her tone, “I could never hate you, Chat.” 

Something within his emeralds resolved and the tension surrounding his form dissipated. The reaction encouraged her to keep going. 

“Be pissed at you? Sure. But never hate. You’re my partner, after all.” 

For a moment, she thought she had over done it. 

Chat noir simply stared at her, his towering form reminding her of their propinquity. Her heart thundered and struck against her ribcage the longer he remained silent. The fact that she knew it was _Adrien_ beneath that mask, that it was _Adrien_ keeping her gaze like that- and in such close proximity was what made the entire situation all the more uncanny. 

She hated the way her cheeks were beginning to burn.

Just as it was getting difficult to keep his striking gaze, he averted his own to the side, lips pulling into a straight line. His grip on her hands loosened, the action prompting her to let go of his.

“Are you still pissed?” 

She was relieved to find that his voice was much more even now. She found it a bit amusing that he was keen on double checking, despite her reassurances.

It was almost cute. Almost.

“Was. For a while. But no, not anymore.”

His eyes glanced back at her and Ladybug noticed a sense of hesitance swirling within them. He was definitely contemplating something. 

After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. 

“I think…” his brows furrowed, “no, I _want_ to tell you why I left but-” 

Before she knew it, her fingers were bumping against his lips, putting an end to what she knew he would undoubtedly relay. He was clearly not in the right mindset- both his actions and words had confirmed that much. With that said, she couldn’t bear to stand before him and witness him struggle to tell her something she already knew.

Just because he didn’t know that she knew why he left, didn’t mean she had to put him through that. He’d already been through enough of an emotional rollercoaster. They both had. 

“Don’t,” she began, her voice soft and somewhat firm, “whatever the reason is- or was, I respect it.”

His pupils constricted as his mask creased in confusion. At first, she thought it was because her fingers were still set on his lips but then, she quickly realized that it must be her lack of curiosity regarding his whereabouts for the past six years. After all, insisting on dismissing such an explanation didn’t exactly fit with the comportment of someone who shouldn’t know his identity.

And like that, Ladybug found herself a wonderful fork in the road. 

Was she to tell Chat noir the truth about being aware that he was Adrien or remain disingenuous? 

_Just tell him and get it over with. The longer you keep it from him, the worse it’ll be when he finds out you know._

Surprisingly, the voice in her head somewhat resembled Tikki’s and although it had a point, Ladybug found her throat closing up. There was too much to account for and take into consideration. Was this the right time? The right place? They were on a random roof in broad daylight. Anyone could easily eavesdrop on their conversation. Maybe some ears already were, who knew?

_Excuses, excuses._

The voice chided. This time, it sounded exactly like Tikki and Ladybug wondered if the kwami was present vicariously through the earrings or if the voice was merely a creation of her imagination. 

Excuse or not, she wasn’t ready to lay out the truth before him. It was too big of a can of worms and she found herself not having the strength to open it just yet, let alone get her hands in and dirty. Besides, ignorance was bliss, right? 

What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

Slowly removing her fingers from his lips, she continued, equivocating, “if you didn’t tell me then, you don’t need to tell me now. I can tell whatever it was, it was important to you...and probably very personal,” a pang of guilt struck her chest upon the way his eyes softened and cat ears flattened, “you don’t have to explain yourself, Chat. I won’t make you tell me something you don’t want to.” 

Lowering her gaze, she focused on the small space between their feet, “you being here is more than enough.” 

For a moment, a comforting silence befell the two.

Her heart beat furiously and Ladybug found it hard to look up at him. Had she let on too much? Was she vague enough? It was hard to tell when the only thing she had to stare at was the concrete floor. 

Suddenly, his voice filled the still air, inviting her gaze upward. 

“Thank you.” 

A spark took her eyes as she saw a small smile accompanying the short yet potent expression of gratitude. For the first time since they had crossed paths, she saw his lips curve into a genuine grin. It was nothing like those forced, tight-lipped, model smiles he had previously given her. Something about the fact made her cheeks slightly warm.

Suddenly, an ear-piercing squelch cracked in the air, turning both their heads its way. Her eyes scanned the vicinity and once she found the source of the ungodly screech, Ladybug felt her stomach sink. 

“Great,” she muttered bitterly under her breath.

Reporters. 

A whole swarm of them equipped with megaphones and mics, all looking their way. There were about a dozen news vans parked in front of the building and double the amount of camera men with lenses all pointed up at them. 

She flinched as another loud squelch echoed in the air before a female voice spoke. 

“Ladybug? Chat noir? is that really you?”

_Wonderful._

Another voice followed suit.

“What does your return mean for the city? Are we all in danger again?” 

It took everything in her power to suppress the heavy, drawn out sigh that awaited to be pulled from her core. This was exactly what she had wanted to avoid. 

“Please, could you heroes give us a moment of your time!” 

It wasn’t long before a slew of questions erupted from the small crowd of reporters, some aggressive, some polite. 

_“Nice to know my rotten luck hasn’t changed.”_

Her ears had barely caught the mutter. Something about his tone made her snort and she saw a mop of blonde turn her way from her peripheral. 

Shooting him a side glance, Ladybug found his arms folding loosely across his chest. A look of amusement and faint humor filled Chat noir’s features. The sight made her smile. 

The tension between them had subsided, causing her own, initial doubts to be eradicated in the process. She hadn’t lost her partner. He was standing right next to her. Sure, he had changed but she could clearly see hints of the boy he once used to be within him and to her, that was enough. It was all that mattered.

Maybe it was wrong for her to cling onto his former self like Chloé had said, but right now, as that teasing, almost roguish grin claimed his lips, that's all she saw. The old Chat noir. One who hadn’t been twisted by time, distance and tragedy.

“Not in the mood for an interview?” she offered, a hint of playfulness shrouding her tone.

His eyes turned to the crowd of reporters, “not really.” 

“Well then, I’m glad that makes the two of us.” 

She quietly observed him as he took out his staff, sliding open the top of its built-in device. It seemed he was checking the time for the moment his eyes landed on his screen, he swore. 

“Shit.” 

_Colourful language._

The tease nearly slipped past her tongue.

Quirking a brow, she tilted her head, “something wrong?” 

He didn’t answer, instead continuing to focus on his screen. Ladybug waited a beat, then two. 

“Okay then,” she mumbled, turning her attention back towards the crowd of reporters. 

Her eyes surveyed the vans, looking to see what news channels had turned up. That’s when a head of auburn hair lurking near the vans parked further back caught her attention. 

Alya. 

She had completely forgotten about her! 

Ladybug nearly pinched herself for getting so caught up with her partner- who still hadn't uttered a word- that the idea of collecting the fox miraculous had completely slipped her mind. 

Just as she turned to tell Chat noir that she had to leave, he finally broke his prolonged silence. 

“Uh, I’ve got to go. I’m kinda already running late…” 

Her brows furrowed as she tried to follow along. And then, it hit her. He probably had left a meeting or something to be here. 

“That’s alright, I have to go too-” her voice rose as he extended his baton, her hand reaching out after him as his feet nearly leapt off the roof, “-but WAIT!”

* * *

He managed to stop his legs in time. 

With his grip tightening on his staff, Chat noir turned to face his partner, blinking. 

“Can we talk later?” she asked, a shade of seriousness evident in her tone.

His heart stuttered before its beat amped up with tension. Had she changed her mind about pardoning him? 

One look at her hopeful features told him that she hadn’t. 

If she wasn’t planning on discussing why he had left for six years, what exactly did she want to talk about? He tried searching her expression for answers only to come up empty. 

Maybe she wanted to talk about the akuma? It was the only thing that came to mind. Now that he thought about it, the way everything had unfolded- especially with the weird cocoon- had left an eeriness in the air. Maybe she had felt it too. 

However, knowing that his briefing was tomorrow morning and the fact that he was already running behind schedule the longer he stood there, he wasn’t sure how to politely decline. 

“Define ‘later.’” he simply asked, brows pinching together in thought. 

“Like, later in the evening, maybe? Once the press is gone.” 

He cringed. It was just as he had thought. 

There was no way he could squeeze in time tonight- especially considering that he had already wasted so much this morning and afternoon. 

Reaching for his nape, he averted his gaze to the side, “Ahh, I can’t,” looking back to catch a glimpse of her reaction, he regretted saying what he said next. “I’m busy.” 

The last time he had alluded to such a statement, he had been grilled- and rightfully so, as much as it hurt his pride to admit. 

Ladybug’s mask creased in a hard scowl and Chat noir knew he had screwed up. He honestly didn’t even blame her for taking offense- he had left her for six years, only to turn her down even after she had forgiven him. 

Wow, he really _was_ an ass. 

Clearing past the lump in his throat, he tried to tranquilize the situation, “but-ah, maybe we can talk when I find time-” he noticed the way her eyes narrowed and lips pursed, “-or make time! I can clear my schedule a bit-er, or try to…” 

His fingers coiled around his staff, squeezing the indestructible metal the longer she eyed him. 

He nearly jolted at the speed with which she drew her yo-yo and spun it to the side. A halo ring of pink and red light emitted from her weapon the faster she spun it, its glow faintly lighting the side of her face. Her eyes never left his, though. 

“Okay.” 

Curt and stiff. She was definitely pissed. 

Before he could explain himself, she turned her back to him. Aiming with her yo-yo, she pulled the string taut after it latched onto the roof of another, nearby building. 

“Ladybug, please! Just consider a few questions! We _need_ answers!” came the cry of a reporter from below but both heroes ignored it. 

For as they stood mere inches apart, the stark turn of events slowly stretched a gulf between them. 

Chat noir _felt_ the wall she raised as she said her parting words, “I guess I’ll see you around then.” 

“You will,” he called out, unsure if she had heard him. 

As he watched her swing away, a dead weight sunk within his stomach. 

With a deep, dejected breath, he vaulted from the roof, completely ignoring the way the press hollered his name. As the warm summer air rushed past his face and raked through his hair, Chat noir found himself falling deep into his thoughts. 

If there was anything he had learned today, it was this: he needed to clean up his act. If Ladybug could forgive him without asking for any explanations- despite all the agony he had put her through, If she could be kind despite the passing of time, then who was he to turn a cold shoulder towards those he had drifted from? Those who he once had held so very close before his world had turned upside down all those years ago? 

Who was he to be reticent and frigid?

_‘Like your dad.’_

His balance nearly gave out upon that ever familiar voice still skulking within his head. 

No. He wasn’t like his father. And he would prove it.

He needed to fix things. He needed to be better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't guarantee regular updates! I need to do a little bit of planning for the next couple of chapters. Things are about to get spicy 👁👄👁
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, support and wonderful comments💞


	19. As The Dust Settles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! 
> 
> Consider this a gift because I initially was not going to post this :) 🎁
> 
> I like to write ahead and post regular updates so this chapter has been sitting, completed for quite some time XD

Alya liked to believe she was immune to shock.

Ever since she had decided to become serious about her side hustle as a journalist and had made it a point to seek out the next best, gossip-worthy scoop, nothing in Paris seemed to faze her. As the years had gone by, her line of work slowly caused her to digest anything out of the ordinary with ease, until even the unforeseen didn’t so much as take her by surprise. 

So yeah, between her wits and cunning set of skills, Alya had thought that nothing- not even a few false pregnancy scares, could cause her to blink twice. That was...until today.

In the past few years, the journalist had never thought she would be slinking her way around a few news vans in hopes of getting to Ladybug.

The comotion from the press was getting on her nerves. They weren’t supposed to be there. Actually, _she_ wasn’t supposed to be there but the akuma hadn’t exactly given her the chance to get away.

The ombre suppressed a groan. 

Nothing was going as planned.

That wasn’t the only thing which irked her, though.

Alya knew something was off when Chat noir had arrived on scene.

His delayed appearance had already given her reason to speculate rather far-fetched possibilities regarding his whereabouts. However, once the hero had arrived, It wasn’t the fact that he had stopped on the roof of the building behind Ladybug instead of heading down to give her a hand, it was more of the way the akuma had reacted to his appearance that _really_ caused Alya to turn the gears in her head.

Alas, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't put the events that had followed the appearance of the blonde haired cat-man into a reasonable explanation. There was no denying that something else, something unprecedented and _bigger_ was at play.

Afterall, she had had a front row seat to the entirety of the strange phenomenon. She had witnessed it with her own two eyes.

The akuma had gone ‘offline’ as Alya liked to put it, only to have released its victim a few moments later with that whole cocoon sequence. Something about the way that purple butterfly had spiraled down towards the concrete after being released nagged at her. It was as if Hawkmoth had surrendered his creation as soon as the akuma had registered the presence of both heroes- something she found rather hard to believe. Then again, the villain had disappeared for over half a decade so Alya didn’t completely throw that possibility out the window.

Still, why a cocoon?

It had confounded the ombre, sure. But not as much as that difficult exchange between Ladybug and Chat noir. Even though she had been nowhere near earshot, from the looks of the way the two had interacted on that roof, it seemed to her that neither of them knew how to act around the other. They had looked less like adults and more like pubescent teens awkwardly making small conversation.

Alya didn’t understand.

Nevertheless, she didn’t have time to mull over the matter. She needed to return the fox pendant hanging around her neck and find the quickest way back to Barb’s. The coffee shop had most definitely been restored after Ladybug had repaired all the damage. And if everything had gone back to normal then...

_Marinette_.

The name was all that reverberated within her thoughts. Before her phone had died, Alya had told Marinette that she was still at Barb’s. Now that the roads were all cleared, her stomach clenched at the thought of her best friend running back to the coffee shop only to find her missing.

Knowing her blueberry, the ombre knew the girl would undoubtedly jump to ridiculous conclusions; ones that may cause a panic attack. After all, her only means of contact between her and Marinette was dead.

As Alya managed to slip past the first producer, she heard that ever familiar sound of Ladybug’s yo-yo. Jerking her head up, the brunette found the heroine swinging away. With her attention trained on the raven head, Alya pivoted on her toes, golden eyes following the direction in which the spotted figure was headed.

Her feet moved without much thought and before she knew it, the ombre was breaking off in a full sprint. Chasing after a streak of red, it seemed that Ladybug had no plans of stopping anytime soon.

_Did she forget about me??_

Her legs began to burn once she neared the second block. Her chest constricted as her airways tightened. She needed to breathe.

Nearly tripping over her own two feet, Alya came to an abrupt stop. Panting for air, the brunette hunched over, her hand finding the wall of the building to her left for balance.

She could feel the erratic beat of her heart colliding against her ribs and the sudden feeling of nausea washed over her. Swallowing down a surge of hot bile, the ombre slowly sank into a crouch. As her body weight overruled the strength of her sore muscles, Alya found herself sitting with her legs sprawled on the sidewalk.

_I really need to hit the gym more often._

The thought was knocked aside by a memory containing none other than her boyfriend’s teasing voice.

_‘Who needs a gym when we can workout right here? Just you, me and a bed, babe~’_

A smile split her lips.

It amused her the way Nino would find his way into her thoughts at the most absurd times.

“What’s got you smiling like that, sugar?”

The sudden voice of the fox kwami jerked Alya out of her momentary reverie. Looking down at her shoulder, she found Trixx poking her head out from between her thick, auburn locks.

“Nothing,” the brunette sighed, tilting her head back.

For a moment, Alya allowed herself to regain her breathing. Chasing after the heroine had left her winded. As her body temperature rose, Alya wondered what she was supposed to do with the miraculous in her possession.

She couldn’t exactly wear it around her neck and leave it activated. It was too great of a responsibility, one she was not prepared to undertake. Besides, her life was already taxing as it was. Though tempting, taking care of a magical fox pendant didn’t fit into her schedule these days.

Still, it had felt nice being Rena Rouge again. Even if it had only lasted for a few ten minutes.

Despite the change in appearance, Alya appreciated the feeling of nostalgia the suit had brought. 

A faint tickle caused her shoulder to jerk. It seemed Trixx was moving around. She had to hand it to the little deity, using her thick hair to remain hidden from view would have never crossed her mind. It seemed the kwami was just as clever as she was cunning.

It sometimes saddened the ombre that she hadn’t been allowed to keep the necklace in her youth. Alya had always wondered how her life would have played out if Ladybug had made her a full time superheroine. The thrill of a double life had always intrigued her.

Suddenly, a ball of orange came dashing out of her hair.

“Okay, cub, I need you to find an alley.”

Snapping her head down to face the kwami, Alya gave Trixx a blank stare.

It seemed the small fox caught onto her confusion for she explained herself while gently pulling at a small section of Alya’s auburn locks.

“I can sense Tikki. She’s coming to collect the necklace, sugar. We need to find a place to hide.”

With furrowing brows, Alya moved to cup the kwami in her palms.

“Hold on- Tikki? Who is that?”

With a heavy sigh, Trixx yanked at her ears, pulling them down the sides of her face, “I promise to answer all your questions as soon as you find a place where no one can see us.”

The ombre blinked at the kwami’s seeming frustration- or was it annoyance? Alya wasn’t sure. At this point, nothing really made sense. Drawing a breath, the brunette rose from her spot and scanned the area for an inconspicuous place she could potentially remain hidden in.

Her eyes landed on a narrow opening between two buildings across the street. It looked like a tight squeeze but seeing as she had no other option, she settled for what she had. Looking both ways despite there being no cars on the fairly empty road, Alya briskly crossed to the other side, making sure to keep Trixx hidden within the ball of her palms that were now drawn close to her chest.

Slipping between the small opening, the ombre regretted her decision immediately. It was too narrow. There was no way another person could fit within the alley.

Releasing the kwami from her hold, the journalist looked upon the small, orange creature with rich curiosity. Trixx’s ears twitched, turning left and right, acting as if they were a set of antennae catching a signal. Moments later, Alya witnessed something that for once, had caught her completely off guard.

A streak of red phased through the brick wall of the building before her. Yelping at the sudden, unnatural sight, Alya was quick to slap a hand to her mouth, silencing herself. She prayed no one had heard the loud echo of her ungodly screech and inturn, had attracted attention her way.

With a furrowing set of brows, Alya focused her bewildered gaze upon the floating, red blob that, up close, seemed to be a very tiny creature. It took a second but the gears in her mind clicked in place, retrieving a name for the bug-like pixie.

“Tikki?”

A pair of bright, indigo eyes turned to her upon the call.

Making a face, the brunette straightened her glasses because clearly, she had misinterpreted Trixx’s words. This entire time, Alya had thought Tikki was a person.

However, noting the little, red creature’s petite figure, her bulbous head, nib-ended arms and those big indigo eyes that seemed to reflect hints of dark blue when the light hit them right, the brunette found herself taken aback.

“You’re a kwami,” the ombre breathed.

“Of course she is!” she heard Trixx exclaim, a faint cackle buried in her tone.

“I thought-” shaking her head, her fingertips instinctively found her temple, “-nevermind. You must be here to collect this, right?”

Gently lifting the pendant with her other hand, Alya was surprised to see that the red kwami hadn’t moved from her hovering spot. Her indigo eyes were simply observing her, something mysterious and knowing hidden within them.

After a moment, Tikki smiled. “Hello, Alya.”

The brunette was quick to note the way the kwami had completely disregarded her question.

“And yes, I am,” Tikki continued after another beat of silent observation.

Okay, so maybe she hadn’t _completely_ dodged her question but still, the hesitation was prevalent. And it was enough to spark Alya’s deep rooted curiosity.

“So, I’m guessing you’re Ladybug’s kwami, right?”

It was almost unsettling the way Tikki slowly nodded.

Running her thumb beneath the thin, gold chain, Alya managed a smile, “can you tell her I said thank you and that I’m honored she sought me out after all these years to help?”

“Of course!”

With a small sigh, Alya chose to dismiss the weird vibe she was getting from Tikki and instead, turned her head towards Trixx. She felt her stomach flip when the little fox gave her a warm, forlorn smile.

“I guess this is it, cub. It was fun while it lasted, am I right?”

The ombre nearly felt her eyes water when the orange kwami zipped towards her, collecting her cheek in a big, warm hug. She was going to miss the cunning foxette.

“It really was…” giving Trixx a quick stroke between the ears, Alya moved her questioning gaze to set on the other kwami hovering an arm’s length before her, “...maybe this isn’t goodbye but a see you later? Who knows? Maybe Ladybug might need some extra help in the future too.”

Although she knew Trixx was oblivious to what she was alluding, the ombre knew well that Tikki had understood what she had meant. The way those indigo eyes had registered the double meaning behind her words confirmed that much.

As Alya finally slipped off the necklace and felt her kwami disappear, she allowed the chain to hang from her hooked finger. Her golden eyes observed the way Tikki’s gaze flicked down to set on the pendant, her indigo irises following it as it slowly swung like a pendulum.

With the miraculous deactivated, it was just her and the mysterious, red kwami.

“ _Will_ you be needing extra help?” Alya questioned after a moment, though her tone came across as a bit stern.

There was an ugly pause.

Tikki slowly lifted her gaze from the pendant and the ombre finally understood the meaning behind the kwami’s lack of words. Despite those small features bearing a passive look, Alya was certain that the reason her question was met with heinous silence was because Tikki wasn’t sure herself.

And that was enough for Alya to put two and two together.

“You know, with everything that happened today,” her eyes tightened behind her glasses as Tikki’s antenna stood on end, “I feel like...you might- need me, that is.”

Extending her arm, Alya held the necklace out to the kwami, “though, I can’t help but feel that..something else is at play, you know?”

If Tikki felt anything, the ombre couldn't tell. The little, red deity continued to keep Alya’s dubious yet accusatory gaze with ease, not flinching in the slightest.

The journalist waited. When the kwami made no effort to collect the necklace, Alya finally voiced the one question she had been dying to know the answer to.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about what happened with the akuma today, would you?” jiggling the pendant as a means of offering, she narrowed her eyes, “because...I have a feeling you do.”

After a slight pause, Tikki extended her own short arm. “I’m only here to collect the miraculous.”

Despite the small smile that accompanied her cheerful tone, Alya practically felt the imaginary door the small deity had slammed before her face. Whatever the kwami knew, it was clearly not meant for her ears.

And if there was something Alya craved more than anything, it was disassembling secrets and uncovering the truth. It was the very thing that ran within her blood. Handing over both the fox miraculous and its box with a strained, tight-lipped grin, Alya watched as the kwami phased back through the wall she had appeared from, parting without a goodbye.

The ombre didn’t know what to make of the kwami’s leave.

Maybe she had crossed a line by accusing Tikki of withholding information (in her defence, she probably was). Maybe the lack of a goodbye was some philosophical way of relaying that this wasn’t the last of the red deity the ombre would see. Whatever it was, it didn’t provide her with the answers she was after.

Alya figured then, in the quiet of the tight alley, that if she wanted to know about the akuma’s disturbing display of giving in on the street and what this unprecedented action meant, she would have to dig for the answers herself. Ladybug was clearly not going to be telling her anything anytime soon. The heroine hadn’t even stuck around for the press, nor had she stepped forth before anyone- including Alya herself. Not even when it came to giving her the fox miraculous.

Now that she thought about it, it was kind of weird. It all was, actually. The way the heroine had turned away from the reporters (which, granted, she understood). But to send her own kwami to give out and collect a miraculous? She couldn’t help but feel as though the heroine didn’t want to be seen or confronted. It was a bold assumption, but given all that she had witnessed, Alya was beginning to wonder if Ladybug even had the answers. Why else would she and her kwami alike turn down a hoard of questions?

A spark took the journalist’s eyes as she waded deeper into her thoughts.

If she was going to have any chance of figuring out what led the akuma to do what it did, then she needed to speak to the victim herself. She had seen Belladonna conversing with Hawkmoth- she had seen the neon glow of the butterfly lit before her pale face. Alya had a strong gut feeling that there was definitely _something_ the villain had said that had triggered the entire, unprecedented phenomenon.

All she had to figure out was what.

And the best way to start was to identify the victim and politely harass her into answering a few, brief questions. The only problem was that eight years ago, when mayor bourgeois had resigned from office, a new law had forbidden the media to expose the identities of akumatized victims after a growing number of hate crimes towards them had increased.

Luckily for her, she had heard a blonde woman calling out to the victim shortly after Ladybug had repaired all the damage. Kelsy was the name the blonde had yelled.

Unfortunately, Alya didn’t have the skill set to identify a person with just a first name and blurred image that some anonymous person online would soon, undoubtedly release for the sake of trolling like countless others had done in the past.

Shooting her gaze up towards the opening of the alley, the ombre reached for her back pocket. Giving her dead phone two, loving taps through the material of her denim shorts, a small, almost mischievous grin took her lips.

_She_ may not have the skill set to identify the victim, but Alya sure as hell knew someone who did.

* * *

“Okay, I love you too. Yes, I know, Mama. I will. Bye.”

Marinette pulled her phone away from her ear and fell back onto her large mattress. The moment her back sunk into its soft foam, a heavy, drawn-out sigh deflated her lungs.

Today had felt like a never ending nightmare.

Besides the obvious, the aftermath of the attack had wrung all the energy from her bones. From racing back to Barb’s before her best friend could to reassuring both an anxious Chloé and her parents that she was safe and hadn’t been affected by the akuma, Marinette felt that her throat had been stripped dry.

She was grateful that people cared about her well-being but in reality, she couldn’t exactly tell them the whole truth. She couldn’t tell Chloé that Ladybug wasn’t as strong and fierce as the blonde made her out to be. She couldn’t tell Alya why she was so out of breath and exhausted when they had rendezvoused at the coffee shop. She couldn’t tell her mama how lost she felt. She couldn’t tell anyone why her every bone was aching in lethargy.

“Are you okay, Marinette?”

The sweet but worry stricken voice of her kwami snapped the raven head out of her thoughts. Turning her head to the side, her eyes found the red deity and a small smile took Marinette’s lips. At least she had Tikki.

“Yeah,” the raven head sighed.

For a brief moment, a stillness encompassed her room. Marinette welcomed its silence and allowed herself to flutter her eyes shut. Just for a second.

The uncalled attack had definitely left her shaken. Her unerring instincts had somehow gotten her through the thick of it all. If it hadn’t been for her dumb struck of luck however, there was no telling if she would have even been able to- no, no. She wouldn’t go there. The threat had been neutralized and that was all that mattered.

Everyone was safe and the damage had been repaired. She had done her job. Sure, it may have been fortuitous, but Marinette was determined to be better- smarter next time.

Next time. God. The mere idea of there being another large scale attack left a sickening feeling down her entire form.

Another heavy, inaudible sigh fled past her lips and Marinette felt her eyes grow hot.

Gritting her teeth, she tried hard to focus on the steady sound of her breathing.

Her mind however, refused to still.

No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept leading her back to the moment she was cornered by Belladonna. The moment right before Hawkmoth had intervened. The memory kept racing through her head on a loop, reminding her of the mistake she had made by misjudging how lethal the akuma really was. The mistake that had caused her body to collapse in on itself. The mistake that had nearly cost Parisians their lives. The mistake that had nearly led to her defeat.

With a small, suppressed groan, Marinette draped an arm over her eyes. The darkness that filled the previous splash of orange behind her lids brought a slight ease. Eventually, the quiet coupled with the lack of light drowned out all the chaos churning within her head. She was finally regaining some peace.

And then, for whatever reason, Marinette felt her eyes dampen.

The sharp intake of breath that broke through the silence within her room was loud and uncalled for.

It caused her heart to clench and she quickly found the sides of her cheeks being lined with wetness.

And just when she thought the room was beginning to tilt, the raven head felt a soft peck on her wrist’s pulse point, causing everything to come to a sudden standstill. Her chagrin froze.

A feeling of warmth began to steadily ink her veins. Her overwhelming emotional breakdown dissolved, the sensation helping her envision her body being cradled by loving arms. 

The young designer stayed perfectly still for a few, allowing her odd yet sedulous coping mechanism to help ground herself once more.

It was as if she had resurfaced from underwater.

Finally letting her arm slide off her eyes and rest above her head, the raven head fluttered her lids open and found Tikki hovering just before her face. The concern within those big, indigo eyes jabbed her in the chest, causing Marinette to lazily roll over to her side with a soft moan.

“What’s wrong?"

She didn’t answer.

Mainly because she didn't know herself.

Marinette knew she had a knack for overthinking the littlest things. Misplacing her pens, replaying awkward conversations, wondering whether she had locked her front door; trifling, little things.

But _this_?

This was far greater than anything she had mentally prepared herself for. Afterall, her mind could only handle so many things going south. And so, it was no surprise that her crippling anxiety was eroding away her sense of control, little by little.

“I don’t know,” she half-whispered, half-choked after a small stretch of silence.

Her throat tightened and the tears she had so desperately tried to hold back, sprung to life. Marinette had never hated herself more.

“That’s okay,” Tikki spoke with a loving, patient and gentle tone.

The raven head wanted to tell her kwami that she was wrong and that it wasn’t okay because she was tired of feeling like absolute shit. But somehow, Marinette found that to be very taxing and decided to vacantly stare at the rumples creasing her pastel peach sheets instead. 

After a few, wordless seconds, she heard Tikki speak up again.

“Well..why don’t you try telling me what you think it is? I’ll listen.”

There was a slight pull on her finger, prompting Marinette to tear her gaze away from her sheets. Her sapphire eyes traveled up, along her bedding and found her tiny companion. Her heart fluttered upon the way Tikki wound her tiny arms around her pointer finger and nuzzled her cheek against her skin.

“Maybe you’ll figure out what’s bothering you.”

Maybe.

Hell, anything other than crying into her pillows was better in her opinion. With a deep breath Marinette rolled onto her back once more and sighed.

“I messed up, Tikki.”

In an instant, her kwami was zipping to her cheek and nuzzling against her damp skin.

“Don’t say that. You shouldn’t belittle your efforts, Marinette. You had no idea there would be an attack today! No one did. You can’t blame yourself for not being able to predict the future,” Tikki pulled away from her cheek to look her chosen in the eyes. A determined look filled those indigo irises, almost as if the kwami had known what was bothering Marinette from the very beginning. “Besides, you keep forgetting that you aren’t used to fighting akumas. It’s been a long time.”

Although Tikki had a point, Marinette couldn’t help but feel this sharp pang snake through her chest.

“I know but…”

“But?”

Biting back a groan, the raven head sat up.

“It’s not just that- it’s-ugh,” letting out an exasperated growl, the young designer buried her face into her hands with her back hunched.

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on for longer than she liked. It was almost as if time itself slowed down- just long enough for her to gather her words.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” knowing her voice was coming out all muffled, Marinette removed her hands from her face while drawing a long breath.

“It’s like- I know I’m not used to fighting akumas. I know that,” she began, gesturing with both her hands as she spoke. “But what I can’t shake off is the fact that- look,” tearing her gaze away from her heap of sheets, her sapphire eyes flew to lock with Tikki’s attentive gaze, “Belladonna knew I was tired, right? She knew I had hit my limit and yet- I don’t know, it’s weird. It’s like, I can’t help but feel...as though she didn’t even try to take my earrings. Not even once.”

Marinette searched her kwami’s blank yet attentive expression. It was odd, seeing Tikki stay silent.

“Anyways,” the raven head continued, despite her kwami’s lack of input. “I keep thinking about it and the only logical explanation that I can think of is because Adrien showed up.”

Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes upon mentioning his name.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help but be angry with him. It seemed her aggravated feelings towards the blonde were definitely obvious for Tikki finally spoke.

“Did he..do something?”

Marinette bit out a dry, satirical chuckle.

“Funny you say that,” turning away from her kwami, the raven head gazed past her bedroom’s sliding-glass balcony door, passively focusing on the darkening sky as she expressed her grievance. “Technically, no. He was actually...like himself for once.. but then…”

Marinette sighed.

And this time, it hurt.

It hurt because for once, despite having her kwami by her side, she felt so, so alone. It hurt because one of her closest friends from laycée was gone, replaced by a frigid stranger. It hurt because her partner since day one was nothing short of but a relic of the past.

It hurt because Marinette finally accepted that Adrien Agreste had changed.

“Then?” Tikki gently prodded.

Pulling away from her thoughts, she took a deep breath.

“Then, he went back to being an ass.”

There was a beat of silence.

“...how?”

Although she appreciated the way Tikki cared about her, Marinette couldn’t help but feel annoyed. She didn’t want to explain herself.

Mainly because deep down, she knew she was being just a tad bit unfair. She also knew that if she told Tikki, the wise deity would tell her the same.

“Marinette?”

Suppressing a groan, the raven head turned back to her kwami with a tight smile.

“You wanna know why? It’s pretty funny, actually. He basically apologized for leaving without a word and, I’ll admit, he had me thinking for a second that he hadn’t changed-” she ignored the way Tikki frowned in confusion, “-and as soon as I told him that it was okay, that I wasn’t going to hold it against him, it didn’t take him long to go back to being a prick. I honestly thought that he’d _want_ to talk to me tonight. That he’d be jumping at the opportunity. BUT _**NO**_. Do you know what he said when I asked if we could talk? And he said it with such a STRAIGHT FACE TOO- no guilt or remorse WHATSOEVER- he said, ‘I. Can’t. I’m _BUSY_!’”

It was only when she stopped that Marinette realized how loud she had been shouting. Her soft pants were enough of an indication.

Finding her hands clenched into fists, she sighed heavily.

“If he isn’t willing to talk to _Ladybug_ , then...there’s no point in trying. He’s gone, Tikki,” Marinette lowered her voice in hopes that it wouldn’t waver. “He doesn’t care.”

She could _feel_ her kwami’s eyes on her. The quiet that followed didn’t last very long.

“...He didn’t try to suggest a different time to talk?”

Marinette could clearly hear the skepticism in the deity’s voice, causing her to internally squirm.

“No. Yes. Ugh- does it even matter? He’s already decided he wants to be an ass.”

“Marinette,” Tikki began with a tone that came across a bit critical, “if he was willing to talk to you when he wouldn’t be busy then..don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair?”

Aaaaand there it was. The truth.

It was bitter, ugly and annoying.

And she was having none of it.

“Am I? I mean, he could have said so in the beginning- he didn’t have to be so blunt.”

Tikki blinked.

“Why are you trying so hard to make him look bad?”

“ _look bad?_ I’m just telling you things as they are! It’s not my fault he’s CHANGED!”

Marinette couldn’t believe it. She had never yelled at Tikki but she couldn’t help herself. Why was she being accused of twisting things out of proportion? Seriously, whose side was Tikki on?

Deciding that she had had enough, the raven head stood from the bed and began shuffling towards her bedroom door.

Though, every step felt heavy and wrong. This wasn’t right. It was icky and so unlike her. Tikki was only trying to help. Yet, despite being aware of it all, Marinette so stubbornly stuck to her unruly anger towards the blonde.

Just as she was about to reach for the doorknob, she heard her kwami speak.

“You keep saying that he’s changed...but so have you, Marinette.”

Her hand stilled.

“You’re both adults now. Of course he’s busy- just like how you are,” Tikki continued effortlessly and Marinette noted the gentle tone she carried, despite how harsh she had come off on her.

Needless to say, it made the raven head feel all the more guilty for wanting to walk out of the room.

“And even if he isn’t busy and he just said that to avoid talking to you-”

Marinette lifted her chin ever so slightly, slowly pivoting on her toes and suddenly interested with where Tikki was going with this.

“-you should respect the fact that he needs time to process everything. You can’t hold that against him.”

Marinette frowned.

_Process_?

For a moment, she didn't understand what Tikki meant. Her confusion must have been apparent for her kwami elaborated.

It just so happened that Marinette clicked the pieces together just as Tikki spoke.

“...you _did_ tell him, right? That you know?”

Her body tensed.

When she continued to stare at the red deity with her teeth raking along her bottom lip, Tikki flew over to hover before her.

Marinette could see the disapproval within those indigo eyes.

"Well?"

“I-I,” licking her lips, the raven head tried to find the right words to explain herself. “I was going to- I really was! B-but then..he started crying-”

“- _What_?”

“-yeah, when he was apologizing a-and I kinda froze. Tikki, you should have seen the way he broke down- the things he was saying, I didn't know what to do, I panicked! It was bad enough that he thought I hated him- which I don’t-” she gestured with her hands, rambling, “-like yeah, I’m _mad_ but I would never hate- you get what I mean!” Marinette fiddled with her fingers, “so I just...you know..”

For the first time, it was Tikki who sighed heavily.

The reaction made her skin crawl and suddenly, she could taste a bitterness on her tongue.

“Marinette,” the kawmi began with a voice so dark and coloured in disappointment that it nearly made the ravenette’s knees buckle, “I can’t say that I’m happy with what you did, but...I understand.”

Before she could relax, Tikki crossed the small space between them and gently jabbed a nib-ended hand onto the tip of her nose.

“However, this does NOT mean that you should keep the truth from him!” Tikki then poked her nose with her every word, "he. Deserves. To. Know.”

“I know, I know,” Marinette sighed.

She watched as her kwami pulled away with her arms crossed.

“If the tables were turned, how would you feel? I know you’d want him to tell you,” with a sigh, Tikki planted her nib-ended hands on her tiny hips, “I personally think you should tell him the next time you see him. The sooner, the better. It will only get harder for you the longer you wait. But-”

Taken aback by the way Tikki suddenly zipped to collect her cheek in a warm hug, Marinette couldn’t help but jerk in a faint startle.

“-the decision is yours. I won't force you.”

Bringing her hands up to collect the small deity as she nuzzled into her cheek, the raven head slowly smiled, marveling upon the kindness her kwami had.

"Thank you," Marinette whispered.

She was lucky. Even at her lows, Tikki still tried to understand her and loved her unconditionally.

Maybe she truly was the only being that Marinette could confide in.

It was bewitchingly depressing.

* * *

Marinette had just settled beneath her soft blanket when she heard her phone chime.

With a low groan, she tried hard to ignore the notification.

_No. Check it tomorrow. You need rest._

Agreeing with the voice in her head, the raven head sluggishly turned over and tried hard to fall asleep.

She had the entirety of tomorrow to check whoever was texting her near midnight. It was probably Chloé anyway. That's right, the blonde probably forgot about the timezone difference or maybe she wanted to rant.

It didn't matter because she wouldn't check.

_Good. Sleep. So what if Chloé may be in trouble?_

Marinette sometimes hated that sinister voice in her head.

With a groan, she threw her blanket aside and rolled over to her nightstand.

Her eyes weighed heavy as she blindly felt around for her phone. When that failed, she summoned every drop of strength she had left in her sore muscles and sat up to turn on her lamp.

She found her device face down through squinted eyes. With a soft whine, her languid hands picked it up and brought its lit screen near her disgruntled face.

At first, she thought she was seeing things because the notification on her lockscreen proudly displayed a number she didn't recognize.

If this was a scam text-

_You've turned on the lamp, might as well check it out before going back to bed._

She really hated the voice in her head.

Nonetheless, complying with the idea, Marinette unlocked her device and was navigated to the message. At first, her eyes were too tired to read the paragraph before her. Rubbing some sleep from her sockets with the heel of her palm, Marinette blinked a few times to keep the letters from muddling together.

Straining her vision, she was able to make out the first sentence.

And that’s all she needed.

Because even though it took a second, when her mind made sense of the text, she was kicked awake.

**11:49 pm**

Unknown

_Good Evening, Miss Dupain. I apologize for the tardy reply, I was very busy today. I’m delighted that you’ve reached out to me. As per your request, I’ve told Tracy to meet with you in the main lobby tomorrow. Unfortunately, my schedule is tightly packed, however, I can make time to help you with your fabric issue. I have a briefing tomorrow morning @ 9. That’s the only time I’m available. Please come to the office and Tracy will let you in. Once the meeting is over, you can tell me the details and I will take care of the rest. Sleep well._

Marinette stared at the message and felt her insides erupt in shock. She didn't know how she was able to bite back the squeal that tore through her throat.

He had replied. Holy shit, Faucher Blanc had _actually_ replied.

This was perfect. He would take care of the fabric she desperately needed and she would finally be able to finish the wedding dress! Marinette wasn’t sure how she would ever be able to properly thank him. He had, metaphorically speaking, split an ocean in two for her- and with no questions asked either. It was almost uncanny the way he was so easily willing to help.

Her eyes reread his text and this time, her attention was caught by his last sentence.

'Sleep well.'

Although it seemed innocent- an appropriately polite closing, Marinette couldn't help but feel this cold, unsettling feeling slither down her spine. It was similar to the one she had felt in his office.

Shaking out of her momentary unease, she typed out a quick reply and navigated out of her instant messages.

Calling upon her voice activated assistant built into her phone, she instructed the AI to wake her up at 7:30am.

A sweet, femanine voice confirmed her alarm and Marinette clicked her phone shut before falling back into a comfy position.

As her eyes slowly fluttered shut, there were only two thoughts that caressed her mind before everything went dark: the fact that Faucher Blanc was willing to accommodate her, a nobody, into his tightly crammed schedule and yet, Adrien Agreste couldn't even do just that with _Ladybug_.

And the second thought, well…

It was simply a mental image of his parting sentence. 

_Sleep well_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ATIWY will be back with regular updates soon (hopefully)!
> 
> Things are getting ...interesting

**Author's Note:**

> :)


End file.
